The Trial of Loki
by XFauxAfflictionX
Summary: "If you fail..." Loki's punishment upon his return to Asgard after the events of The Avengers promises to be severe. But Loki is hiding secrets from his father and brother, secrets that could excuse him. The problem is... is he lying? Would anyone believe him if he's not? Rated M for violence and sexual suggestion.
1. Chapter 1

"_But I have done a thousand dreadful things_

_As willingly as one would kill a fly,_

_And nothing grieves me more heartily indeed_

_But that I cannot do ten thousand more."_

**The Trial of Loki**

**Chapter 1**

**The Return**

Loki was motionless as Thor stood opposite him, their hands clasped to either end of the Cube. The ones known as Barton and Romanoff, Hawkeye and Black Widow as Thor had heard them addressed, stood to his left, watching. Hawkeye's glare was aimed only at Loki, and Thor had no doubts why. He himself had a few choice words for his brother, but was saving them for Asgard.

The ones called Stark and Banner, Thor's friendly and worthy opponent, stood at his back, both looking prepared should the situation become volatile. Such was a possibility; Loki was returning to Asgard for the strictest of punishment from Odin, the Allfather, and the Council of Elders. An escape did not seem beyond him.

The one known as Rogers stood alone, separated from the rest, watching diligently. Thor nodded to him in camaraderie as he prepared to return home. Rogers inclined his head, all the words of their shared battle needing not be spoken.

Thor turned back to Loki, whose head was bowed in his defeat, his hands bound in a specially concocted metal chain and his face beaten beneath the jaw trap that had been fastened to his face before their departure from the Assembly. The one-eyed man known as Fury, a fine name for a warrior, had shown Thor how to remove it, and informed him that only he could. He didn't quite understand the technology of the mortals, but Fury had made it clear that only Thor's hand would release the clasp. Fury had followed it with a smirk and advice that he never do so.

Thor felt a pang of pity and empathy for his brother, however, as he stood apart from him, looking at his broken, ruined form. He pushed the feeling away, much as he pushed away pain during battle, and tentatively reserved the thoughts for a later time.

Stark nodded his head, his eyes trailing to his hand-built contraption containing the cube. Thor let his eyes wander a final time to his many companions as he prepared to say goodbye.

The Hulk, now standing reservedly in human form, his slender limbs contained in a gray suit. He had been worthy and powerful; quite a capable man.

Stark, the man of iron, his eyes shielded behind some sort of eyewear, smirking slightly at his contraption that now rested in Thor's hand.

Rogers, a soldier to his very core, solemn but content.

Romanoff and Barton, their proximity suggesting closeness. Thor felt happiness for them as his eyes passed over them.

They landed on Loki at last, who stood, eyes and spirit downcast, hand unwavering but clenched on the Cube's opposite end. Thor took in a breath as he twisted the contraption's end, as Stark had advised, and the familiar jerking of the Bifrost lifted him and his brother from Midgard.


	2. Chapter 2: The Beginning of the End

**Chapter 2**

**The Beginning of the End**

The jump back to Asgard took longer than Thor remembered. Perhaps it was his desire to stay on Midgard, perhaps it was his reluctance to witness what was surely to follow upon their return.

Whatever it was, it snapped him back to Asgard with a rush of finality, his feet landing firmly on the bridge before Heimdall. Thor took a deep breath of Asgardian air, relishing its purity. He turned to his brother for the first time, and all of his pity, empathy, guilt, and love for him crashed down like his own hammer.

Loki stood, his hand still clasped around the Cube, his eyes closed and his stance suggesting... fear? No, Loki did not express fear. Even if he felt it. Thor had never known him to outwardly express many things. Perhaps it was simply apprehension, as he should.

"Come," Thor said, and he felt his voice fall from his lips much harsher than he had intended.

Loki dropped the Cube, letting it fall into Thor's grasp and down to his thigh, but did not move. He opened his eyes, but continued to stare down at the bridge. The jaw trap looked monstrous on him now, but perhaps it was deserving.

"A carriage awaits you, Odinson," Heimdall interjected, his gaze cast at Thor but his body aimed at Loki. Heimdall's hands rested on the hilt of his great sword, as they usually did, but they seemed poised, balanced; prepared to strike.

Thor turned to see the giant barred black carriage, one he had only ever seen sitting in the hold, waiting idle behind four large white horses. The carriage driver nodded solemnly at him and beckoned their approach.

Thor turned again to Loki and repeated himself.

"Come."

It seemed gentler this time.

Loki, as if prodded by some force, seemed to nearly fall forward, forcing every step. Thor thoroughly resisted the urge to aid him; to wrap his arm about his shoulder as he had when they were boys. He had to remind himself of the atrocities Loki had committed on Midgard—to remind himself that it could have been Jane. It made it slightly easier to lead him to the high black bars of the jailer's carriage and follow him inside.

He sat opposite Loki, who sat as still as Odin's great statues, his eyes cast out of the bars and into the sea. Thor sighed, setting the Cube onto the seat beside his leg. Loki finally moved then, his eyes flitting to the Cube for a barely recognizable moment.

Thor narrowed his eyes, pondering Loki's intentions. Did he really still harbor plans to steal it? Did he really think, after all that had happened, he could still succeed? Thor watched him as his eyes returned to the sea, thinking on Loki's motivations. Did he really hate the mortals that much? Was it hatred toward Thor, and the mortals happened to fall victim? It was all piling up, and Thor still couldn't form words.

The ride back into Asgard City took long. The horses proceeded at a brisk trot instead of a rousing gallop, as Thor usually did, and it gave him time to think. There were so many things he wanted to say to Loki. So much anger he wished to expose, so much rage. And yet, he felt so much conflicting emotion. Some part of him felt relief that his brother had returned home. Some part of him was breathing a heavy, final sigh.

Loki, on the other hand, simply sat. His breaths were shallow and morbid behind the jaw trap, and his eyes bore so much pain and anguish. His face was still scarred and cut from his skirmish with Hulk, and his shoulders hunched over in defeated misery. Thor thought long on things to say, but never decided. His words of anger were too harsh, his words of comfort abandoned too much anger.

When the carriage entered the city, the atmosphere was suffocating. People stood on balconies, out on the streets, even stepped out of shops to watch the jailer's progression. The city's streets were usually drowning in bustling movement and loud, boisterous conversation, but not then. It was a frozen, silent wasteland in which every person tried to get a glimpse of Loki's traitorous form. Upon seeing the first of them, he looked away and into the cabin, but still avoided Thor altogether.

Thor felt an overwhelming urge to scream at him, "Look at them! Look at what you've created! Look at your own kinsmen! Look at what a disgrace you are to us!"

But the words were too harsh, and Thor knew he would hear them eventually. He would hear them, but at least it would not come from his brother.

The carriage jolted to a stop in the square before the Council building. No Asgardian civilians would be waiting here. Only guards.

Thor climbed from the carriage first, stepping into the light and tossing his cloak back over his shoulders. He made sure to keep the Cube close, his fist firmly clenched on its end.

An impressive hoard of Asgard warriors waited to escort them into the Council building. Sif, Fandral, Vostagg, and Hogun among them. Thor nodded to them, but it was no time for happy reunions. They seemed to sense this as well, and merely waited, hands on their weapons, for Loki to step from the carriage.

Confusion and nostalgia washed over Thor as he beheld another escort, a young woman by the name of Sigyn. She was no warrior, nor was she a guardian. Thor paused on her as he recalled the Trials of Praff, the Games of the Horfin Ceremony. A group of nine, including Sif and the warriors, Loki, Thor, and Sigyn, had been sent on a hunt, in which game _and _ the contestants were targets. The contestants were to hunt the largest game, but also take out all other competitors for the title of Praff. Sigyn had been a talented markswoman with a bow and arrow, but had ultimately been led into a trap by Loki's tricks.

She hadn't gone on to become a warrior or guardian as some had suspected, but instead lead the life of a noble woman, gaining the title in Midgard of "Goddess of Fidelity." Thor pondered her presence for only a moment, but cast off his suspicions as he turned back to the carriage.

He turned to find Loki still seated, his hands fallen between his legs with the weight of the manacles Stark had created. Thor stepped closer, and found that Loki's whole form was shaking.

Thor's resolve cracked. His pity overwhelmed his anger.

"Come, Loki," Thor said, using Loki's name for the first time since Midgard. "The Council will not meet today. Your fate is not to be decided immediately."

Thor had never witnessed a proceeding of this caliber before, but he knew that, by tradition, the Council would gather alone first, then face the accused.

Loki did not seem reassured. In fact, he didn't even react to Thor's statement. Thor sighed, reaching into the cabin and grasping the long chain connecting Loki's wrists. He did not begin to pull him from the carriage, but raised them to let him know that he would.

Loki slumped from the carriage like poured wine cascading over the edges. Thor continued to hold the chains. He wasn't sure why, but he felt that Loki might collapse at any moment, and he wanted to have a hold of him, even if it was by a long strand of chains.

The guards fell into place around them, the whole procession making its way into the wide open doors of the gold council building. Just as Thor had expected, each of the twelve seats lining the high wall of the circular building was empty, with the exception of one.

Odin sat somberly with his scepter, his one eye falling immensely on Loki. Loki didn't dare look up at him.

The procession led him to the center of the empty circle, stopping when Loki was directly centered atop the golden star inlaid into the bricks of the floor. Only then did Odin's statuesque form rise, and he did so slowly.

"Loki..." Odin began, and Thor was forced to look sideways at his brother as Loki shuddered. "Odinson."

Thor silently thanked his father for the traditional name. Calling him Laufeyson would only be a slap in the face. Although he deserved such a slap.

"Your crimes against Midgard and its allied brother Thor are grievous, and Asgard will not look past them," Odin began in a monotone. Thor continued to watch Loki, who was trying very hard not to react. His eyes were intensely studying the golden tiles at his feet, and his fingers groped at the chains on his wrists.

"To-morrow," Odin began after a breathy pause. "The Council of Elders, along with myself, will meet here to decide your fate. Escort of Nobles, you will see to it that he is taken to the hold for the night and imprisoned. That is all."

The address was cold and distanced, and Thor could see that Loki was distressed. If Odin would not address him as his son, then his punishment would also be assigned accordingly. With little mercy.


	3. Chapter 3: The Hold

**Chapter 3**

**The Hold**

Loki was not pleased. Odin had acted exactly as he expected him to. His hope that mercy might be shown because of his relation was a small one, but it had been his last.

The likely outcome of the Council meet would be exile. Loki shuddered as Thor led him back to the carriage, the Escort of Nobles surrounding him. Thor noticed the shudder, but merely continued to walk.

_If you fail..._

The words haunted Loki's mind, crawling over his thoughts like vermin at every turn.

_There will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice we cannot find you…_

Where would his exile be carried out? They certainly wouldn't risk letting him return to Midgard, so that was eliminated. They would want to ensure his continued restraint, so they would likely keep him close. Perhaps Jotunheim... how fitting.

_You think you know pain..._

Loki jumped as the words seared his mind, and the whole carriage reacted to his sudden movement. Thor narrowed his eyes, obviously considering the nature of his spasm. He did not ask, however, probably for a number of reasons. Pride, for one. He was still too angry to hold conversation with him. Two; it would require him to remove the trap on his face, and Thor obviously had no plans to do so any time soon.

The hold was on the city limits, suspended on the other end of the city at the limits of the bridge. The ride was long and silent, but Loki was thankful it was mostly bridge. He had almost summoned strength from the Tesseract and attempted to break from the carriage on his way in. The looks on their faces were so demeaning. Beneath him.

Then there was the Tesseract. Cruel, to have it so close. Thor probably assumed, since Loki's plans were thwarted, that he no longer needed it. But it could have been so easy to break from these simple mortal manacles and take it, fleeing to the Chitauris. Asgard would find him again, but at least then he would have fulfilled his task. The threat would no longer lie upon his shoulders.

The carriage jerked to a halt, and Thor paused for a moment. Loki would not look up at him, but he was quite aware of his eyes on him. He looked for a long time.

He then pushed himself from the carriage with disregard. Loki followed obediently this time, having conquered his fear. Exile was eminent, capture by the Chitauris soon thereafter. And then the torture... it was simply unavoidable, and to fret was a waste.

The Escort of Nobles had followed on horseback, and now stood surrounding the carriage on their fidgeting mounts. Loki was taken aback by the presence of the Lady Sigyn. He had known her years ago, during the Ceremony of Horfin. He looked up at her only, meeting her eyes as Thor led him toward the massive hold. Her bright blonde hair was as gold as the hold beyond her, and holding a similar sheen. She watched with equal intensity until he broke their contact and peered back at the floor.

Loki had only heard tell of the impressive hold, never been inside. He admitted to himself as he was led deeper and deeper into its depths, past level after level of guarded strongholds, that it was far more intimidating than the pitiful prison the mortals had kept.

The lowest level was guarded by none other than the Gatekeeper, Heimdall. He stood like stone before the giant barred entrance, his hands resting ever on his sword. His eyes seared into Loki, he could feel them.

Thor never paused as he walked Loki directly into the cell. He didn't turn to face Loki, however. He grasped Loki's shoulder and forced him to turn instead. He jerked with the surprise and force of it, and his eyes fell onto Thor's.

There was compassion there, and it only made the anger boiling inside Loki's chest rise. He wanted to scream at him, to hate him, to thrash and hit him. But instead he stood, locked eyes with his brother, for what seemed like long unyielding hours. Thor sighed, resting a hand on Loki's neck. Loki strongly resisted the urge to pull away, hit him, kick him in the gut. He could feel the chains shudder as they cascaded around his trembling hands.

Thor looked down at the chains, sighing again. The compassion disappeared from his features then, and he knelt, taking the lowest link in the chain and clasping it to the ground of the cell through a fetter that protruded there.

Thor did not look at him as he rose to his feet and walked out, shutting the barred door with finality behind him.

"Guard my brother well, Heimdall," he said solemnly, clasping the Gatekeeper on the shoulder. Heimdall nodded, stepping in front of the door and positioning his great sword into the bricks. He seemed immovable, and his long-seeing eye would certainly see any plot of escape.

The fatigue in Loki's body threatened to overwhelm him as he watched Thor fade into the upper levels of the hold. His body ached from days of battle and relentless work with the Tesseract. His healing was slow, due to the severity of the wounds he sustained from the beast. And then there was the humiliating trap on his face, which stopped him from even opening his mouth to breathe behind it.

The weight of defeat seemed to become a corporeal essence, resting entirely on his shoulders. The thought of The Other's threat weighed on his mind with equal force, and he felt helpless. He collapsed to his knees then, the chains pooling around him with a reverberating _clang_.

Thor paused at the top of the stairs, and Loki watched to see if he would turn.

He didn't.


	4. Chapter 4: Nightmare

**Chapter 4**

**Nightmare**

Loki lie on his back in the center of the cell, his arms positioned awkwardly over his chest to accommodate the manacles now fastened to the ground. He had stared long at the bricks overhead, analyzing each crack and imperfection in their gold-hued forms. Heimdall stood silently, his back to the cell, ever watchful. Loki suspected he had been employed to watch for three things: any associates come to free Loki, any vengeful Asgardians come to harm him, and Loki himself, whose mischief and plotting was practically legend.

His body pained him. His mind raced through thoughts of the battles and his failures. But eventually, after long dragging hours of the night, he began to grow weary and consider sleep.

At first it was a waking sleep in which he constantly woke himself with slight shudders and jerks, but soon he found himself in the land of his uninterrupted dreams. He stood on the moon of Chitauri, speaking with The Other. He was vaguely aware of the dream's reality, its past nature, but soon found himself reliving the familiar conversation.

"…Until I open the doors, until your force is mine to command," Loki said as he faced The Other, the scepter held to his neck. "You are but words."

The Other's breath was heavy as he considered.

"You will have your war, Asgardian," The Other began after a pause.

Loki pulled the scepter away as The Other leaned in close.

"_If you fail_..."

The Other paced the moon's surface, disappearing from Loki's vision as he walked behind him.

"If the Tesseract is kept from us…There will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice we cannot find you…"

Loki swallowed, considering the threat. The Other was certainly an intimidating figure, but his army of gruesome soldiers seemed far more volatile. Not to mention the Leviathans.

"You think you know pain..." The Other continued, and this time Loki felt his hand creep up his neck from behind, crawling up to his face.

"_He _will make you long for something sweet as pain…"

Loki didn't dare show weakness by flinching or pulling away, so he allowed The Other to pull him down to his knees, lying his head onto a rock before him. He felt the splaying tentacles of a Leviathan wrapping around his limbs, but continued to remain still. It seemed to be an exercise of subjectivity, and if it would gain him the Chitauris army, so be it.

He gasped, however, as the razor tentacles of the Leviathan pierced into his body from points all over. Their tiny, needle-like points began to sink deeper and deeper into his flesh, encompassing his very bones.

_Do not scream,_ he told himself as the pain became immense.

"You have never known real pain in your life, Asgardian, until you have crossed the Chitauri," The Other continued. "Until you have crossed _him!"_

Loki could feel his body convulsing as the needle-thin tentacles continued to dive into his body, sinking ever-deeper like malleable swords. They worked their way through his muscles, grasping hold of him.

_Do not scream._

"You will bring us the Tesseract," The Other said, stepping in front of him and placing his hand on Loki's hair. He slowly pulled Loki's head back to expose his throat. Loki felt yet another tentacle rest against the flesh of his neck.

"You will... _succeed,_" The Other said with a grin, and Loki felt the tentacle dive into his throat.

_Do not scream._


	5. Chapter 5: Presence and Declination

**Chapter 5**

**Presence and Declination**

Thor stood at the balcony of his quarters, a glass of wine in his hand. It had been long since the Escort of Nobles had returned to the inner city, and most of them were housed comfortably in their homes. After his many long battles in Midgard, he himself should be resting. But he could not steady his mind. He thought of Jane, and longed for her in a yearning that surprised him. He thought of his father, and his certainly conflicting decision lying ahead. But mostly, he thought of Loki.

He still felt battling emotions over his brother's return, but for now, pity seemed to dominate. He had heard Loki collapse in the cell, but remained strong. He refused to turn and look at him. He knew if he did his resolve over the matter would shatter. He needed to remain passive, and try to face his brother's coming persecution with as little bias as possible.

But it all seemed so complicated now. And what had that monstrous shudder in the carriage been about? Was he reacting to Odin's unreceptive address in the Council building? Thor doubted it; Loki had been relatively distanced from Odin since he discovered his true lineage.

The whole situation baffled him. He took a small drink from his glass, looking out over the lights of Asgard's evening streets.

A few hard knocks came then upon the doors of his quarters, and he turned, calling for them to enter.

It was a sentry of the City South, and he seemed to have been riding hard. He clapped his feet together and bowed ceremoniously.

"No call for tradition here, speak!" Thor said, approaching. His mind was wandering dark places. No sentries ever disturbed him at this late hour.

"The Gatekeeper Heimdall urgently requests your presence at the hold, Odinson," the sentry said, winded.

Thor set his wine down hurriedly. "Has he given a reason why?" he asked, grasping his cloak from the bed and donning it. He rushed past the sentry and out toward the stables.

"No, my Lord. He only bid me to make haste," the sentry replied, struggling to keep up with Thor's pace.

Thor abandoned him, breaking into a jog as he tore into the stables and readied his horse. He was ready in moments, and the sentry didn't bother to follow. He knew that his duty ended with the delivery of the message.

"Rouse my father," Thor said as he leapt onto his black steed. He heeled the stallion forward, galloping from the stables and leaving the sentry standing with his final orders.

The trip to the hold took far less time at a gallop. Thor barely managed to pull the horse to a stop before dismounting, and left it standing on the bridge as he descended into the hold.

He heard it long before he had gone even two levels. It was an awkward, muffled cry, much like the dying screams Thor had heard from battle horses. He strained his ears as he ran deeper and deeper into the hold, his fist holding Mjolnir steady as it hung from his belt.

Shock and dismay met him as a familiarity hung over the cries the closer he got. He tore through the hold, never bothering with the guards. None seemed keen on stopping him, at any rate.

As he descended the final flight of stairs, it struck him like his own weapon. They were certainly Loki's screams, muffled and muted by that contraption Stark had built. Thor hurried to meet Heimdall, who still stood motionless with his back to the cell.

Thor hastened to the bars to peer in. Loki lie on his back, writhing and thrashing at the lengths of the chains. His horrible screams were muted, but were quite clear behind his locked jaw.

"What tortures him, Heimdall?" Thor asked, watching as Loki's legs kicked out at unseen forces.

"He sleeps, Odinson," Heimdall replied in his usually calm monotone.

"Give me the keys, Heimadall," Thor said, turning quickly to face the Gatekeeper. Heimdall made no move to hand over the key.

"Heimdall?!" Thor yelled, holding out his hand.

"Are you sure this is no trickery, Odinson?" Heimdall asked calmly.

Thor paused, thinking. Faking pain to work Thor's empathy was certainly not beneath Loki. But this… this seemed extreme. The screams seemed real enough.

"I am not willing to find out. Give me the keys," Thor finished, shoving his hand closer into Heimdall's chest.

"Very well," Heimdall complied, pulling the long ring of keys from his inner cloak.

"What is happening?" Thor heard from behind him. He turned his head to look as he hurried to unlock the prison gate.

It was the Lady Sigyn, of all likely persons, standing in an evening gown by the stairwell. Confusion swept over Thor. Why was she here? How had she known of the incident? How had she come so quickly, when Odin himself had not even arrived?

"Stay where you are, Lady," Thor said as he shoved the door in. He hurried to Loki, dropping to his knees by his side.

Indeed, he seemed trapped in some torturous sleep; a nightmare of garish proportions. His face was twisted beneath the trap, and the moans and screams still managed to escape haphazardly.

Thor rested his hands on Loki's shoulders, shaking him. He did not wake. His screams merely intensified, and his limbs thrashed out as if to protect himself. Thor had to fend off a few stray hits from his flailing arms.

"Loki!" Thor cried, shaking his brother by the shoulders again, harsher this time.

Still, he did not wake. His body began to tremble and quake, and Thor felt a twinge of panic.

_"Loki!"_ he yelled, louder. He shook Loki violently, and this time it did the trick.

Waking him did not help, however. Loki's eyes snapped open into complete panic and terror, and he kicked at Thor as he pushed away from him. Helpless whimpers escaped from beneath the jaw trap, and Thor suspected Loki's reality had not entirely returned to normal. In his waking eyes, Thor was still a threat.

"Loki…" Thor said gently, grasping him by the shoulders tightly and forcing him to still. His muscles trembled and shook as he stared at Thor, still not convinced he was a friend. "It is I."

Loki stared back at him for only a moment before collapsing back to the ground, pulling his hands up over his head to shield himself. His breathing was manic.

Thor sighed, his pity overwhelming him. He leaned forward, placing his bowstring finger on the spot Fury had indicated on the trap, and waited.

The trap released soon thereafter, and Loki gasped, reeling away in his freedom to cower at the lengths of his chains.

Thor looked back at the Lady Sigyn, who had disregarded his advice, and strayed into the cell. She seemed as confused as he.

When he turned back, Thor found Loki in a horrified state, curled in on himself and whimpering like a wounded Tursk.

"Loki?" Thor asked, reaching out and laying a hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki shied away, kicking the floor for distance. Thor began to suspect, and did not like his suppositions.

"Loki, who has hurt you?" he asked, his voice low and soft. Loki's wild eyes met his for only seconds, but peered about the cell, obviously obtaining its validity.

"Someone has tortured you, _who was it?"_ Thor asked, anger building again, but this time at whoever had laid hands on his brother.

Loki calmed for a moment, looking up at Thor and considering. "I…" he started, and his voice was hoarse and broken from unused days. It sounded weak, small, and hurt… so hurt.

"I…" he stuttered again, trying to form the necessary words. He jumped, however, when the door to the hold slammed open and Odin entered. He walked with his staff at his side, as he usually did, and seemed to still be wearing his armor from the day.

Loki retreated back into himself at the sight of Odin, shrinking back onto the floor and curling around the chains holding him. He shuddered, and Thor considered it deeply.

"Who rouses me?" Odin called as he approached the cell. Thor stood, walking away and approaching his father.

"I have, father," Thor said in hushed tones as he joined Odin. Heimdall positioned himself in front of the cell's door as he let the two speak. Lady Sigyn remained inside, her back against the bars, watching Loki silently.

Loki had gained control of himself, and had pushed onto his knees, and now sat in a reserved kneel.

"Something strange is happening, father," Thor said, keeping his voice low, despite the knowledge that Loki could undoubtedly hear him.

"How so?" Odin asked, peering around Heimdall at Loki's now oddly calm form.

"Heimdall summoned me," Thor began, also turning round to look back at Loki, who had placed his hands flat against his thighs and turned his face upward in a kind of reverie. "His dreams are haunted."

Odin sighed, looking at Thor analytically before walking forth to the cell. Heimdall moved obediently.

Odin strode inside, standing only feet before Loki. Loki stayed in his kneeling position, eyes closed, not even acknowledging Odin's presence.

"Speak, Loki," Odin said, his voice booming. Loki twitched at the Allfather's boisterousness, but still did not respond.

"Come, Loki," Thor said, stepping in behind Odin. "Explain to us."

Loki continued to rest, but a wicked grin spread across his lips. Thor grunted, anger rising again. They were trying to help him, and he was constantly playing tricks.

"SPEAK!" Odin yelled, slamming the staff down like a gavel.

Without warming, Loki leapt to his feet, flying to the end of his chains. They stopped him just before Odin. His face was twisted in putrid rage, and he seemed to be truly trying to reach farther; actually harm Odin.

"_You_ are in no position to command me, _Allfather,_" he spat, his eyes piercing into Odin's.

Thor stepped forward, past Odin, and shoved Loki back with a swift hand to the chest. "We are trying to help you, brother!"

Loki sneered as he regained his footing from the shove, and turned his back on Thor to pace the length of the chains.

"Help me… _help me?_" he said under his breath, that familiar acidic tone rising. "You've brought me back here to face certain horrific exile. I would have been better off left to the pitiful tortures the mortals of Midgard would have exacted. I would have preferred it…"

There was something strange in Loki's voice upon his final statement… something almost fearful.

"You have to know that mercy will be shown," Thor tried, but Odin held up a hand, a passive look returned to his face.

"No," Odin said simply, and Loki looked back at him with questioning. "If my punishment is less severe due to his relation…"

Loki scoffed, and Thor was certain he heard him growl "what relation?"

"Then others will find crimes of this magnitude forgivable. Passible. Allowable. No, his will be exactly as is deserved. Perhaps worse, for he is my son."

Loki looked horrified at the threat for a moment, then the look was replaced with that ever-familiar wrath.

"Perhaps while you're at it," Loki began, his voice low and dangerous. He began sulking toward Odin again like a prowling predator. The chains creaked and cracked as they drug the floor and followed his progression. "You should share with them my true lineage, hm?"

Odin inclined his head.

"Perhaps it is something they should know before seeing to my _imminent suffering_," Loki snarled, spitting at Odin's feet.

"That's enough!" Thor yelled, throwing Loki back a second time, this time causing him to fall to his back on the stones. "If you accept no help, then none will be given! Come father, I was mistaken to come to his aid."

With that, Thor turned hastily and walked from the cell, hearing Odin close behind him. He passed the Lady Sigyn by the door, and beckoned to her as well.

"Come, fair Lady, this is no place for one of noble blood."

The insult stung Loki, and Thor could see it in his eyes. He knew he should have felt remorse for the comment, but could not conjure it.

"I would request, your majesties," Sigyn began without moving, which forced Thor and Odin to halt.

"That I be permitted to stay."

Odin and Thor both stared at her in confusion.

"To what end?" Thor asked quizzically.

Sigyn thought long and hard, then set her face into determination. "In companionship."

Thor truly considered her then. Could this be an escape ploy? Did Loki know her better than he gave on?

"Why should I grant such a request?" Thor asked. It really wasn't in his power to grant her permission, but he knew that Odin would trust his judgment. Odin himself stood pondering the young lady from Thor's right.

Lady Sigyn sighed. "Because you pity him, despite your attempts otherwise. But you refuse to show such weakness. I shall."

The statement was bolder than Thor expected, and he took a step back to consider her. She seemed genuine enough, and he had always known her, in the little communication he had had with her, to uphold her title of fidelity. Betrayal of Asgard by freeing Loki did not seem a likely part of her personality. Perhaps she only did wish to comfort Loki. But that in itself also proved troublesome, and raised too many questions than it was worth asking at the moment.

Thor looked back at Loki, who had remained lying, and was watching them meticulously. His eyes, however, showed just as much confusion at Sigyn's actions as Thor felt.

Thor clicked his teeth in annoyance as he thought. "He deserves no such friendship," he added, turning to look at Sigyn.

"Perhaps not," she conceded, nodding. "But if he is to be exiled by the council to-morrow, what can it harm?"

Thor sighed, looking to Odin. His face was set, as if trusting whatever choice Thor would make. Thor turned to peer in at Loki, who had pushed back to his knees, but hadn't stood. He still looked angry and perfectly capable of deception, but… there was just something miserable in his eyes.

"Very well," Thor said walking out of the cell. "But I warn you, he will try to manipulate you given every chance. Do not fall for his deception."

"I have only done so once, Odinson, and never plan to again," she said, bowing her head respectfully as Heimdall closed her in.

Thor nodded, walking up the stairs with his father, resisting the urge to look back again. Loki was being childish and deceptive, but there was just something about his dream… about the screams…


	6. Chapter 6: Revelation

**Chapter 6**

**Revelation**

Sigyn waited until she heard the Allfather and Thor fade from the hold to move forward. Already, Loki seemed to have disregarded her. He fell back, sitting shakily. Sigyn couldn't help but notice that an unsteady hand went to his throat, as if assessing its condition.

She walked to him, and he then tossed a glance full of malice up at her, which caused her to pause.

"Why are you here, woman?" he asked sharply. Sigyn was not used to the informal and insulting address, but hadn't expected any higher from him.

She knelt before him, and he narrowed his eyes questioningly. "The… the words I spoke to Thor were true."

"So you pity me, then?" he said bitterly, his hand still on his neck. Sigyn had seen similar actions from men assessing the damage of battle wounds.

She was silent for a long time, watching him. His limbs twitched at random intervals, and his hands jerked to them, assessing damage in the same manner he had on his neck.

"I know desperation when I see it, Prince," she said, using the safest title she knew.

The anger that flashed across his features was staggering, but she knew it. It wasn't anger directed at her specifically; it was cast at her knowledge. He was apprehensive that she had figured something out. Now she just had to figure out what it was.

A thought crossed her as she watched him shudder. She moved to sit next to him, which seemed to confuse him, but he did not pull away. She pulled the drape from over her shoulders and wrapped it about him. She knew his shudders were not from cold, but perhaps the confining safety of it would help.

He was obviously trying not to show any outward reactions, but she saw a slight relaxation as he stared forward at the turned back of Heimdall. He did not thank her, but she hadn't expected him to. She let him sit for a moment before making her move.

She knew she would have to be fast, but quick movements would threaten him. So she shrouded her moving hand as a comforting one to his shoulder. It was obvious he didn't like it, but allowed it. She felt pre-dawning guilt over her next move.

Her fingers snapped to the collar of his shirt, pulling the lapel down from his neck. She saw the tiny bruised pin-prick mark just before he reacted.

He snarled as, in one fluid movement, he tossed the drape off of his shoulders and spun his arm over her head to wrap the chain around her throat. She yelped as he pulled her back against his chest, yanking the chain tight around her throat.

Within seconds, Heimdall was inside the cell, his great sword raised to Loki's face, which jutted from behind Sigyn's right shoulder.

"Release her," he demanded.

Loki made no moves, but she felt his lips moving her hair as he leaned in next to her neck.

"Do _not_… touch me… _again,_" he hissed, the chains tightening.

She held up her hands in surrender to quell Heimdall, and nodded to Loki as best she could. "My apologies."

He held her for a while longer, his hands shaking on the chains as if he was having trouble deciding whether to release her or strangle her.

"Release her!" Heimdall demanded again, shoving the tip of his blade closer to Loki's face.

Loki sighed, shoving his hand forward and unraveling the chain from her neck. Sigyn flexed her shoulders, but did not gasp. She had a feeling weakness would not be taken kindly by Loki.

"I'm alright, Heimdall," she said, rubbing her neck and realizing it was the same move Loki had made. "My mistake."

Heimdall didn't seem the least bit convinced, but lowered his weapon regardless. "Milady is mad to think this a good idea," he finished, stepping from the cell. "Are you sure you wish to stay?"

"I am," she said, and she heard a disapproving noise from Loki.

Heimdall closed the door, but this time decided to face them as he stood guard. Sigyn nodded to Heimdall in appreciation, and turned to face Loki.

She was surprised to find him on the ground again, his body looking weary and tired. His face shown the same emotions. His hands had gone to the neck of his shirt and pulled it higher—a purely self-conscious move.

"It's a scar, isn't it?" she asked boldly, deciding to remain standing if her questions angered him.

He ignored her, and wrapped his arms around himself like a child. "Your other injuries have healed, but that one hasn't."

He was rocking, obviously uncomfortable with her questions. But she was determined to get to the bottom of his terrors.

"Anything powerful enough to scar you would have to be excruciating," she continued.

He tossed her a warning glance.

"There are more like it, are there not?"

"Hold your tongue!" he snarled, pushing away from her and continuing to hold himself. His eyes were distanced, as if thinking of something far-off… a memory… a pain.

She knelt before him, and he was at the limit of the chains; he could not back away any more.

"They tortured you," she said.

He swallowed harshly, averting his eyes. But the prodding seemed to be working. He was cracking. He would either admit to her, or strike again. And she wouldn't be so lucky a second time. She just had to trust that he wouldn't.

"They threatened to do it again," she said, and his head jerked, as if he was pulling away from someone unseen.

"_Shut up_," he snarled, his hands going over his ears to drown her out.

"That's why you fear exile," she concluded.

He snapped. He dropped his hands to the ground forcefully, the chains clanking. "I fear nothing, you miserable wretch!" He pivoted on the spot to avoid her and curled in on himself. "_Leave me!"_

And so, she finally knew.


	7. Chapter 7: Memories of Horfin

**Author's note:** Just fyi, and for those who don't remember Fandral's impalement in _Thor_, a wound to the heart is not a fatal blow to Asgardians. I imagine it is not pleasant, but it does not kill.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Memories of Horfin**

Sigyn watched him for the longest time. He stilled over time—the shudders and twitches slowly receding, and his breaths slowing. He had disregarded her again, and now seemed too exhausted to remain sitting. He eventually slumped down to a pitiful heap on the ground, but never closed his eyes to rest. He simply stared ahead, at no points in particular, like a living gargoyle.

Sigyn let him be. She wanted to stay with him, and she felt that any further words would lead him to drive her away. She sat, her back leaning painfully against the cell bars, and watched him as the night drug on.

She recalled the Horfin games. The coming of age ceremony was important for all, but none so much as the Sons of Odin, the Princes of Asgard. Sigyn had counted it an honor to be included in a group that encompassed their involvement. However, she had known she faced a terrible challenge.

Thor alone had proven himself to be quite a masterful warrior, with nearly every weapon. Mjolnir, however, was his favorite, and most skilled. Loki, too, was becoming very adept with sorcery, and utilized it often, sometimes for ill purposes. But most of his pranks were harmless. The Lady Sif was the first woman of Asgard to be facing the trials for the rank of warrior. Failure was no option for her, and her talents with a spear matched her determination.

The warriors three, Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral, appeared as allies, as usual, but were not to be discounted. Each held his merits. Hogun alone was like a ghost.

There were others of course, one a woman that Sigyn had initially disregarded. Her beauty was unparalleled, and Sigyn had immediately neglected her as nothing but a pretty face. It was only later, during the games, that she would learn of Amora's deadly skill.

The games had been held in the Gamana. She had seen a building like it in Midgard once… smaller and much less grand, of course…they called it a Coliseum. Perhaps they had somehow gleaned the idea by word of mouth passed through generations of mortals.

Regardless, the building in itself was a force to be reckoned with. Its many nooks and aesthetically placed shrubbery made for a perfect game of cat and mouse between contestants.

The animals had been released into the arena beforehand: a herd of Sleipnir horses, a grall of Bilgesnipe, and an assortment of smaller game. Usually no one went for the Bilgesnipe, due to their temper, so the largest game available was the Sleipnir.

The Horfin games had been in progress for two days. Volstagg, Fandral, and two other contestants had lost and been removed from the arena. The rules stated that a wound to the heart ended a player's stay in the arena. Ironically, fighting over the same Sleipnir, Volstagg and Fandral had inflicted such wounds on each other.

Sigyn had been tracking the herd for half a day, and had finally found them near a brook. She had been preparing an arrow when she heard the cries.

They were loud, pained cries, issuing from the brush behind her. She crept slowly, hoping for some stroke of luck to hand her a wounded animal.

Alas, it _was_ a wounded animal. Loki.

His legs were bound in what appeared to have been a snare, hanging him upside down from a tree. A small dagger protruded from his chest, just to the left of his heart, and blood was dripping down his upturned body to run down his neck and off of his shoulder. He was swaying violently as he attempted to reach his staff, which lay just out of his reach in the grasses at his fingertips.

He froze as he saw her, the fear in his eyes palpable. He was obviously considering whether she would take the opportunity to finish him off.

She merely smiled, leaning on the tip of her bow for support as she drawled, "stuck, Loki?"

He sighed, looking up at the snare that had trapped his legs and hung him. Sigyn did not know whose work it was. She had seen Hogun working with the shipyard ropes a fortnight back, and that could be a key.

"Help me?" Loki begged. His voice was pained, and he wrenched to the side again as he tried for his spear, failing again.

Sigyn raised an eyebrow, as if to ask, "why should I?"

"I am finished," Loki said bitterly. "Sif's dagger has wounded me, I'll be no good in the games. At least give me my dignity?"

Sigyn considered if it could be a trick. Loki was very good with specters. This could be an apparition made to look like him in order to trick her. She had seen him practice it many times.

The one thing he never duplicated, however, was blood. He couldn't get its sheen right, or the way it flowed. It looked unnatural, therefore outing his apparitions _as_ apparitions.

The blood oozing from this Loki looked very real, and very natural. He whimpered as he twisted for his spear again, and the dagger in his chest pained him.

Sigyn sighed. Pity and empathy had always been an integral part of her nature. That, and she didn't want to be the contestant that left the Prince, bloody and wounded, hanging from a tree.

She stepped forward and found where the rope connected with the tree, and pulled her own dagger from her belt. With one swipe, she severed its tight knot at the base.

She screamed as, in one fluid motion, the rope did not release Loki, but instead snapped from the tree, encompassed her wrist, and yanked her up to hang where he had been. She barely caught the last traces of the Loki apparition as it slowly disappeared like fog. She huffed a sigh as she realized that, in the violence of the motion, she had dropped her dagger and now hung weaponless. She still possessed her bow, but it was strung over her shoulder, and, hanging by her wrist, there was no way to utilize it.

She made a growling sound as a perfectly fine, uninjured Loki strolled contentedly from behind the tree she now hung helplessly from. He smiled wickedly, adjusting the greave on his right wrist.

"You devious _bastard_," she hissed, kicking her free legs out at him. He leaned out of the way, one eyebrow rising at her language. He smoothly bent and picked up her dagger, easily avoiding her flailing limbs.

As she hung there, she considered how she had been tricked. The blood… it had looked so real. But just the day before, he was having difficulty conjuring a convincing image of flowing blood…

"So this wasn't the trick, then?" she asked, trying to slow her spinning as the rope tightened painfully around her wrist.

"What _ever_ do you mean?" he asked effortlessly, retrieving his spear from the ground as well.

"Sure, you lured me in well enough," she began, and he finally paused to look up at her. He was surprisingly calm and collected. "But that wasn't the trick. It was far more complicated than that. It was your lackluster skills with magic in the time _leading up _to the games that was the trick. You lead us all to believe that you were far less skilled than you are. In doing so, you tricked me long before we even began."

He smiled genuinely, and her heart fluttered then for the first time. It was the first real smile on him—one not marred by malevolence, deviance, or amusement at someone's gullibility to his deception. His eyes softened with this smile, and he suddenly became… relatable. Prince Loki… handsome, softer.

"You are a smart one, Lady Sigyn," he said, stepping closer to her, turning her dagger over and over in his hand. "But may I offer you some advice?"

She didn't respond, but merely stared back silently as he stepped up to her. He laid a hand on the hip of her armor, stopping her spinning once and for all.

"When you encounter a downed enemy…" he began. He stared for a long time, and she saw the flash in his eyes before he acted.

She screamed again as he dug the dagger into her heart.

"_Kill him."_

Sigyn was brought out of the memory by a loud noise. She peered down at Loki, who remained unmoving and unresponsive. She soon realized that it was the outer doors of the hold opening, and that the guard troop would soon be in to take him to his trial.

Panic began to grip her.

"Loki, you have to tell them!" she whispered hurriedly.

He did not react. He didn't even act like she was in the room. He simply lie there, hands draped awkwardly on the ground to accommodate the chains, eyes staring fixedly at the wall.

"It could save you!" she continued, leaning down to try to make him look her in the eyes. His eyelids closed slowly to avoid her.

"Tell them you were tortured, tell them you feared repercussion!" she begged, listening as the many boots of the guard troop drew nearer through the halls of the hold.

Without warning, Loki was on his knees before her, his hand around her throat. His eyes burned into hers with a passion she had rarely witnessed.

"I'll do no such thing, _Sigyn,_" he spoke her name as if it was vermin—poison that he wished to rid his mouth of quickly. "No son of this realm acts under _fear._ No son of this realm is forced into action by dread of pain."

"So it is pride, then?" she choked out around his incredibly powerful grip. "You'll face punishment, ridicule… exile? All because you don't wish them to know that you _were_ afraid?"

A low growl of annoyance escaped him, but he did not respond. At a prompting glare from Heimdall, he was forced to release her. He didn't do it kindly, however. He threw her back with such force that she stumbled.

"I'll tell them, then," she said rationally, straightening her dresses.

At this, true horror crossed Loki's features, and suddenly she was thrown back against the cell bars. He remained standing in the center of the cell, so she knew it was his sorcery. Usually the hold had wards to stop prisoners from using magic, but she assumed Loki's skill was beyond the simple wards of Asgard's jailer.

A dagger appeared just before her throat, and hovered there, the cool metal resting against her flesh.

"You'll do no such thing," Loki snarled, his features angry and relentless. With a glance she could see that his magic was also holding the cell door closed to keep Heimdall out. "I forbid it."

"You forbid it?" she asked incredulously. "I hardly think you are in any position to…"

"As of yet," he interrupted in a raised tone, inclining his head. "He has not rescinded my title. Therefore I am still prince of this realm, and thereby your senior. I am in the perfect position. You will breathe not a word of what you _think _you know, am I understood?"

She didn't reply, hardly believing what she was hearing. He was using his frail position as Prince to defend his pride. It was such a flawed endeavor, especially for one so calculating as Loki.

The cell darkened as the room's very essence fed off of Loki's temper. The fire blazing from every torch cowered. The very bars seemed to bend and cow outward, as if forced away from him. The magic's power was palpable; Sigyn could feel its suffocating force driving against her chest and making it difficult to draw breath.

"Am… I… _understood?_" he asked again, the magic bearing down on her.

"Yes," she gasped against the very corporeal weight pressing against her chest. "Yes, Loki."

All at once, the magic ceased, leaving her breathless and stammering. The flames jumped back to their usual brilliance, and the bars snapped back into their linear positions. Heimdall even faltered as the weight of the magic left him.

Sigyn could hear the guards descending the last flight of stairs.

"That goes for you as well, Heimdall," Loki growled under his breath. "I know not what you have gleaned from our private conversation, but you will not repeat it."

Heimdall merely smiled in response as the guards entered the room, Thor leading them. His face was set in passivity, but Sigyn could see that it was costing him a great deal of effort.

"The time has come for judgment, brother," Thor stated simply.


	8. Chapter 8: High Treason

**Chapter 8**

**High Treason**

After having been let into the cell by Heimdall, Thor strode cautiously forward and grasped Loki by an upper arm. He easily hoisted him to his feet, and Sigyn watched from the floor as Loki's legs faltered to find sure footing for a moment. From within his armor, Thor revealed the jaw trap.

Loki's reaction was guarded, but Thor did not miss it; he dreaded the thing. His shoulders tensed, and his eyes turned from an exasperated anxiety to rage—rage directed mostly at Thor for having brought the contraption back.

Loki did not fight, however, as Thor fastened it tightly back around Loki's jaw. Loki merely stared back at his brother with a fury that was unmatched by the warlords of Jotunheim.

Thor bent to unlock the shackles from the cell floor, and he didn't miss the look Lady Sigyn was passing up at Loki. It was a strange, guarded look, but seemed somehow… passionate. Thor made a note to remember its passing and consider when the appropriate time approached.

Thor continued to hold Loki by his upper arm as he escorted him out of the cell and up the many levels of stairs out of the hold. Loki's stumbling and shuffled footsteps did not go unnoticed. Thor sighed to himself, trying hard to push away his pity; Loki was visibly exhausted, and had obviously achieved no sleep inside the hold.

The same black jailer's carriage awaited them outside, and Thor watched his brother for a reaction. He had obviously regained his usual passivity, and gave no reaction whatsoever to the sight.

Thor loaded his brother into the carriage easily, the chains of his wrists clanking against the frame as he crawled inside. Thor turned to the guards to provide instruction, and saw Lady Sigyn lingering at the entrance of the hold.

Thor thought for a moment, looking into the carriage. Loki sat hunched, staring at the opposite wall as if in a trance.

"Watch him," Thor demanded of the nearest guard, and he quickly closed the gap to approach Lady Sigyn. She merely waited in beauteous apprehension for him to address her.

"Will you be attending the council, Lady Sigyn?" he asked quietly.

She considered for a long while, watching the carriage. "I have not decided," she finally replied after some thought.

Thor rubbed his chin, the stubble there parting around his fingers. "If I may be so bold… why did you request to stay?"

She thought again, this time for a more extended time. Thor humored her.

"For exactly the reason I said," she began, shifting her weight onto her left leg and rearranging her robes. Thor couldn't help but notice the pleasing way the garments gripped her. "I pitied him, and wished him to have a friend in a time when no one else would offer it."

Thor doubted this, but did not speak, for he could see that she was going to continue.

"Also…"she said in a more frank tone. "I wanted to question him. I have known him, and thought perhaps I could glean answers about his actions."

"And you think he would divulge to you and not his own brother?" Thor asked.

"He has qualms with you," she retorted slightly defensively. "And you are a brutish man of war with little finesse. No offense meant…"

"None taken," he said, standing taller. He actually took it as a compliment most days.

"I am a woman, and a lady at that. I have certain… persuasive means that you simply do not," she finished, pulling her robes tighter in a show of pride.

"So…" he began. "Did you divulge anything?"

Sigyn seemed torn, and the way she narrowed her eyes at the carriage seemed extremely loaded. She considered for a long time, over what, Thor knew not. He gave her time, however, to think.

"No," she said finally, and with conviction. "I did not."

Thor sighed, and his shoulders dropped despite his attempt to remain professional.

"It seems I am not as persuasive as I should wish," she said.

Thor watched her. Something was off about her. She wasn't speaking frankly, and not many dared to withhold information from the future king. She was the Goddess of Fidelity, however, so would she truly lie? It seemed improbable. But he wasn't about to discount it. Loki's schemes had penetrated greater minds.

"Well," he began, backing away. "You are welcome at the council. Your stature welcomes you."

She nodded in thanks to the invite, and Thor returned to the carriage, relieving the guard and climbing inside. Loki did not seem to have moved. His skin was pale, and his eyes dark. Thor's pity won him over and he wished to say something. His words escaped him, however, and all he could manage was to study his ailing brother for the duration of the ride into the city.

The only reaction he gauged from his brother was a slight jerk—more than just forced motion of the carriage having stopped—as they arrived at the council building. Thor reached to grasp Loki's chains to guide him inside, and Loki's fists clenched white. His expression remained unchanged, but Thor was distinctly aware that Loki was trying desperately not to strike him.

The signs were palpable, and Thor suddenly wished he had tried once more to speak with Loki before the Trial… to wax sympathetic to him. He had not done so out of residual anger, and had now missed his chance. He only tried to be as forgiving with his movements as possible as he pulled Loki from the carriage and walked him to the council building.

The citizens of Asgard would not be permitted to attend, but Thor could feel their eyes from every home and street corner. They would wait for word from the more loose-lipped nobles as soon as the verdict was dropped. Thor felt a sudden pounding hatred for them; a need to defend his brother that he wished had arisen sooner.

Two mounted guards with obstructed-face helms closed in behind them as they entered the massive golden doors. Thor heard the resounding _boom_ as they were sealed shut behind the guard caravan, and noticed another small jerk of Loki's limbs in reaction. It was a deafening sound, but moreover it was finalizing. Thor could see Loki's Adam's apple stiffen as he swallowed what could only be dread.

As was assigned of him, Thor led his brother to the center of the giant circular room, the elders and councilmen and women peering on silently from their raised golden thrones. Odin sat at the pinnacle of them all, staring down with unmoving passivity. He held his staff at his side like an image of judgment—a gavel waiting eagerly to be dropped.

Thor did as common knowledge expected of him, despite never having led a prisoner to council before; he locked Loki's wrist chains to the floor at his feet, then stood to remove the jaw trap one final time.

Despite efforts to show no reaction, Loki visibly relaxed as the contraption fell into Thor's hand. Thor did not speak to him, for fear of being overheard. He simply laid a hand on Loki's shoulder and stared in his eyes.

He said in his mind the things he should have said the day before, were his brutish manly pride not forbidding it.

_I am sorry Loki. I am sorry that you have been lied to. I am sorry you have been hurt by your family. I am sorry you felt so lost that you went to such lengths. I am sorry… _so_ sorry that it has come to this._

Thor stood, staring at his brother, for longer than he had intended. He needed Loki to know the things he hadn't said. And yet, all he saw in his brother's expression was a ferocity so intense it threatened to leap from Loki's ice blue eyes and swallow him up.

Thor sighed, stepping away and leaving Loki alone in the center of the council room. Standing at its core, chained and dejected, Loki looked very small and powerless. No doubt an intention of the council.

"Firstly," Odin began, his booming voice echoing through the hall. Thor watched Loki for a reaction, but he had obviously returned to his silent, statuesque-state. Thor doubted if he even heard the following words.

"You will be permitted to speak," Odin continued. "You have been charged with the most grievous of our realms crimes—high treason and the attack and seizure of another sovereign realm. The individuals of Midgard suffered greatly due to this attack, in damage and in lives. What say you to these charges?"

Loki merely took in a shallow, wheeze-like breath that barely forced his shoulders to move. His head did not rise, his hands did not move. And he did not speak.

_Say something_, Thor thought to himself, watching Loki. _Come on Loki, say _something!

Odin looked perturbed. "Will you say nothing in your own defense?"

Loki continued to stand, unmoving and staring at the giant gold floor beneath him.

Odin inclined his head, and his face softened. Thor could see it coming before it was said. He held his breath, as he knew it would break Loki.

"Son?" Odin said, quieter this time.

Thor's supposition was correct. Loki jerked upright and staggered as if he had been stung.

A few elders leaned in as if it were a particularly juicy show in the arena. Thor felt the same aggravation toward them as he had the meddling citizens of Asgard.

_This is no show. This is a _life_ we are discussing. My _brother's_ life!_

Loki let out a breath that visibly shook him, and pure rage played over his features. Odin had struck the wrong nerve.

"I am no son of yours," Loki said acidly, his voice shaking with the weight of it. A few elders took in sharp breaths and leaned back in their seats. "And you should have shared this with your council. You have no wit to command here, and even if you did, I'd have the mind to disobey it."

Odin sat back, taking the insult in stride and realizing his fault in speech. But the allfather was never one to take defeat so simply.

"Very well," he said modestly, standing. The rest of the elders stood in respect.

_No,_ Thor thought suddenly. _They cannot have made the decision overnight! It cannot be this easy!_

"It has been brought to my attention overnight that another realm has first claim over your punishment," Odin began in a new, passive voice. "I would not renounce my claims so easily, but seeing as our handing you over serves our purpose of exile, we have conceded," Odin began, and Thor looked to Loki. A look of dawning realization was falling over him, and his skin paled.

Thor knew Odin would not risk letting the Midgardians have their justice upon him, nor would he risk the exile in Jotunheim. So who had claim?

"An ambassador for the Chitauri race will arrive soon to collect," Odin continued, and confusion fell over Thor as murmuring set in amongst the elders.

The Chitauri… they were Loki's allies, were they not? Had they not supplied him with the forces used to attack Midgard? Why would Odin hand Loki over to a friendly force? Unless…

Thor looked to Loki, and his heart nearly broke. Loki seemed to be panicking, his breaths coming in short, agitated gasps. His hands shook, and he wildly peered around the room as if to attain its validity. As if to find the Chitaurian ambassador already come to escort him.

A thought struck Thor, and he didn't like it one bit. The Chitauri were not his allies. They had rallied with him for his ambition and knowledge of the cube. But ultimately, they had threatened him against failure on Midgard. And Loki was now desperate to avoid it.

The realization struck Thor only moments too late. The snap of the chains echoed throughout the chamber as Loki managed to yank back hard, breaking them at the base and cutting them into two longs strands that hung from each wrist.

The guards swooped in as Thor stood momentarily frozen with shock. Loki snapped the chains about in a vicious circle, downing every one of them. He spun on his heels to make for the exit, and Thor threw himself to the doors, blocking Loki's path.

"Please don't, Loki," Thor begged, holding up his hands submissively. The room went deathly silent as every elder watched. "We'll discuss this. If the thought is so unbearable, we'll reconsider."

Thor knew he was lying through his teeth, and hated that he must do so to recapture Loki. The council never reconsidered once a verdict had been made. It was a matter of honor. But he should have known. The master of lies would never fall for one.

"Do not cheat me to subdue me, brother," Loki hissed, walking calmly to stand inches from Thor. The ruined chains dragged the great golden floor, causing an eerie screech to fill the halls. "You of all of them should know…"

His voice dropped then and his face was so close to Thor's that he could feel his chilled breath on his face. Thor's hand instinctively went to Mjolnir.

Loki's visage disappeared, leaving the council to gasp at his absence as the doors flew open behind Thor, causing him to stumble.

Loki stood just outside, the chains having been thrown to loop around the neck of each mounted guard. The horses pranced in fear, but stood, stamping their hooves in protest. The guards tried to pry the chains from their throats, but it was obvious Loki was sustaining the clutch with magic.

"…they only give such allowances to their own race," Loki finished, yanking hard on the chains. The guards choked as they fell, slamming down onto the bridge with a crash of armor.

With a speed that left Thor merely jogging after him, Loki leapt onto the nearest horse, bothering not with the stirrups as he spurred it quickly away from the council building.

Thor watched for only a moment, the only image in his mind the one of Loki's panicked face upon the delivering of the verdict. Thor could not recall ever having seen such fear in Loki.

"After him!" Odin cried from behind him.

Thor turned to see the guards mounting more horses and riding after their escaped prisoner. Thor grabbed one quickly, making sure to outrun them.

If anyone should find him, it needed to be his brother.


	9. Chapter 9: A Motive to Lie

**Chapter 9**

**A Motive to Lie**

Sigyn stood at the hold for a long time, the jailer's carriage long gone. She rubbed her arms, but not from the chill of the breeze blowing in from the valley.

She had lied to Thor. Blatantly lied. To his face. She couldn't recall ever having lied before. She was the Goddess of Fidelity for a reason.

She pushed off of the hold with disgust, and began to meander back toward the city. The sheer confining energy of the hold was enough to make her stomach turn for days.

The waves below the bridge splashed and broke against one another, the sound giving Sigyn a placating environment in which to think.

Why had she decided to lie to Thor? For all intents and purposes, her loyalties lied first and foremost with him. Loki was a prisoner. He had no more authority than the lowest citizen of Asgard in that state, no matter many times he claimed his title. So why had she done it?

The second of Asgard's two suns was risen high now, gleaming on the rushing waves of the ocean below her as she thought. The walk from the hold was long, but she didn't mind it. It was relaxing, the tranquility of the unaccompanied walk.

She was halfway across the bridge when a thought struck her.

_He asked me not to,_ she thought suddenly, pulling her robes tight about her. _Loki asked me not to speak._

It didn't matter that he had commanded it on the name of his title as prince—no matter how many times he called upon it, it was still questionable at this point. But the answer to Sigyn's questions was simple…

Loki had asked a favor of her in a moment of desperation. She _had _to keep that promise. He asked her not to speak before Thor had instructed her to. Therefore Loki had precedence, no matter his status as prisoner.

Sigyn smiled to herself, glad to have justified her actions. She walked in silence for awhile, thinking on all that had passed. Loki was arguably still beholden to unseen forces, the scars bore proof. But he refused to speak of it. Why? At any rate, it could vindicate him.

Was it pride? Loki had never been truly prideful. In fact he had been known to put himself in situations of humiliation just to ensure some measure of mischief.

Was it fear? Loki feared very little, for his power and skill with magic was completely unmatched by any in Asgard. But if it was fear… the Asgardians too should be anxious, for whatever is a threat to Loki is surely a threat to Asgard.

Sigyn sighed deeply as she considered this, but was driven from her thoughts by a loud crash from the inner city, and many cries of indignation. And they were all resounding from the council building.

Sigyn picked up a jog as worry set in, and reached the edge of the city in minutes. A mounted guard stood wait, listening to the chaos and trying to decide of he should ride into the city.

"Lend me your horse, kind guardian," Sigyn asked quickly, and the guard obviously decided that her rank would allow it.

"Yes'm," he replied, throwing a leg over and preparing to lend her a hand onto the large chestnut beast.

"No need," she said simply, throwing a leg up and using her momentum to carry the rest of her body onto the horse. She smoothed her robes out, as they were certainly not meant for riding, and footed the stirrups. "I suspect they may need your assistance at the council building," she finished, and the guard bowed graciously.

The guard jogged toward the council building, his armor clanking against his shoulders and thighs. Sigyn, however, rode in the opposite direction.

From the commotion and chaos rising from the inner city, she could make a general assumption of what had occurred; Loki had escaped. No other scenario involved such cries of panic from the Asgardian populace. But the important question was… where would he go?

The Bifrost was destroyed, so he had no logical way out of Asgard. He could not return to his family, for they were half of the force that prosecuted him. He was smart, and would probably not risk going to his mother, despite the fact that she was the most likely to help. He would be easily located with her.

Loki's old haunts would be the first place to be checked—the valley rising on the north side of the city, the end of the now broken bridge to the Bifrost. The Horfin arena could possibly shelter him for a little while… he knew its depths intimately and hardly anyone would think to check there.

But it was a public venue, and therefore would be investigated eventually. Loki would seek out a more long-term refuge—one in which he could regroup and calculate his next move.

Sigyn grinned as she reigned her horse through the city streets. A thought struck her, and if it was correct, it would be positively devious. All the more reason to consider it, for the more devious, the more likely Loki's presence.


	10. Chapter 10: Devious Destination

**Chapter 10**

**Devious Destination**

Sigyn trotted her borrowed chestnut stallion through winding golden streets, her eyes peeled for any suspicious or simply odd occurrences. Loki would not be obvious, but in his panicked flee, he would certainly leave signs.

Sigyn arrived at her own quarters within minutes, and dismounted her horse, looping the reigns about a hitching post which rose from the street just to the left of her front door. She did not enter immediately, however.

She wandered about her residence, peering about for disturbed street panels, befuddled citizens, or any other sign. She found what she was searching for quickly.

A few strides down the street there stood an unbridled and unsaddled horse, breathing heavily and peering about in a spooked manner. It bore sweat marks in its spinal fur, making obvious the fact that it had recently been ridden. Hard.

A snap from above spooked the horse, and it took off at a gallop down the street, causing frightened yelps of unsuspecting citizens to echo through the homes.

_Clever_, she thought. _Untack the horse so it will run away, leaving no sign of your whereabouts._

Her suspicion was now almost entirely affirmed. All she had to do was witness it. What did it mean that he came to her? Did it mean anything at all? Or had he simply made a judgment call—that she had been the most likely to show him kindness?

She steeled herself and pushed inside her home with a creeping sense of anxiety.

Her quarters were absolutely unchanged, and there didn't seem to have been anyone inside since she left the night before. But she walked slowly, pushing the door closed behind her cautiously and peering through her own golden halls as if they were all new to her.

The white drapes hanging over her open balcony blew into the drawing room, causing shadows and shapes to dance across the walls and fool her mind. At one moment, she even thought she saw the silhouette of a man, but it dispersed quickly as the trickster shadow of the curtains again.

She stepped cautiously from the entrance hall into the drawing room, and yelped as she was suddenly grasped tightly from behind, a powerful arm wrapping about her neck. She felt the heavy chains from his wrist drape down her body, and knew.

"You're probably wondering why I've come," his acid voice said quietly into her ear. She could feel some kind of weapon pressing into her back as he held her. "I'm currently wondering the same. You seemed the most logical choice, although I know nothing of your loyalties. Therefore I have two options," he paused, and whatever weapon he held dug into her spine.

"I am going to let you speak, and your, albeit carefully chosen, words will determine whether I release you or cut you from gullet to spine, do I make myself clear?" he whispered venomously against her neck. Something more powerful than fear caused a shiver to run through her, and she thought for a moment about her words.

"I lied," she said suddenly. She knew the simplicity of the statement would entice him inwith curiosity.

He did not speak, but he didn't move either. She listened to his breathing, and determined she could continue.

"I lied to Thor," she said, her hands reaching up slowly. No doubt he noticed, but he didn't stop her. She gently laid both of them across the forearm barring her neck, and it softened slightly. "He blatantly asked me if you had told me anything…"

She began to pull his arm away, and stepped forward, turning lithely in the selfsame movement to face him. He stared in her eyes with an intensity that forced that same unknown shiver to course her.

"And I lied."

He did not react, nor did he dare to move. He simply stared at her. The dagger he held quavered. It was as if he was trying to tell if she spoke the truth simply through her eyes. But if anyone could, it would the master of lies.

"Well, I…" he began, looking away from her, his stance relaxing. The dagger disintegrated into air, and she realized the weapon had been a farce of magic. He rubbed his left wrist where the manacle dug into his skin. "I thank you for that."

She inclined her head; glad to see he had accepted her explanation. "Here," she began, stepping forward and reaching for the chains. "Let me help you with those."

"Oh, that's quite alright," he said halfheartedly, and his arms turned a strange, veined blue from the elbow down. The manacles began to make a crackling sound, and frost formed about them.

With each hand respectively, he yanked at the chains, and the manacles shattered from his wrists like broken icicles. His arms returned to their flesh color, and he rubbed them uncomfortably.

_"Perhaps you should share with them my true lineage."_ Loki's words in the hold. They had tipped her off to the fact that Loki was not of Asgard, but now…

Now she knew.

"Ah, the truth sinks in," he mused, stepping away from her and wandering about her chambers, seeming to admire the room.

"You're a Jotun, then?" she asked, swallowing her immediate dread.

"Aye, and one more hated than the rest, I'm afraid…" he replied, his voice trailing. He continued, but his softness told her he was more talking to himself than to her. "Not of Asgard, not of Jotunheim…"

She could hear a sorrow in his voice, although she could not see his face. He stood at the drapes of her balcony, peering out over the city.

She approached him slowly, following his line of sight through the billowing drapes. Odin's golden fortress loomed high in the distance, the rays of sun cascading over it like heavy rain.

Sigyn sighed, raising a hand and resting it on Loki's shoulder. He peered back at her with a suspicious eye, but did not stop her.

"Come inside," she asked tenderly. "Relax. They'll not find you here."

"Oh, but they certainly will," he retorted, his feet firmly rooted where he stood. "Heimdall's sight finds me even now."

Heimdall… she had forgotten his piercing gaze and boundless ears. They would go straight to him when their search failed.

"Can you hide yourself from him?" she asked. She knew he had done so for quite some time after falling into the void. The limits of his ability with magic were unknown.

"I can, and I am presently. But it takes all my strength of conjuring to veil myself from his sight. I fear the amount it'll drain from me…" he replied with a sigh.

Sigyn sighed as well, understanding the breadth of Loki's predicament.

"Drink?" she asked, walking to her galley. She pulled a bottle of wine and held it up in offering.

Loki peered over his shoulder at her, and smiled halfheartedly to himself at some unknown jest. He then lightly responded, "please."

She poured two glasses, and joined him by the balcony again. No doubt he wished to watch for incoming sentries. And if he would not relax and sit down, then she would simply stand with him.

He took the glass and stared into it longingly, as if he found some lost image staring back at him in the ripples of the drink.

"So…" Sigyn prodded, trying to tear his mind from whatever tortured it. "What happened at the trial?"

It indeed tore him from his thoughts. His head snapped up and he returned to peering over the balcony.

"What is there to say?" he began, finally taking a shaky sip of his drink. "A verdict was delivered. I detest it. So I ran."

There was so much missing from that explanation, she found it almost comical. What verdict was so awful it caused him to abandon pride and flee? How did he manage it? Surely Thor and Odin were both present, how was it he managed to escape them? And since he did, what of the warriors three? Surely they stood guard as well… had he bested them too?

Sigyn watched him for a time, deciding not to prod him. Perhaps she could glean her own answers without squeezing them from him.

Loki stood statuesque, barely taking notice of the drink in his hand. He stared out at the mass of Asgard unwaveringly, as if expecting Odin himself to suddenly rise above the cityscape atop a Pegasus to bring him to justice. Judging by Odin's past feats, it didn't seem all that unlikely, actually…

"Have you ever known an Asgardian to end his own life?" Loki asked suddenly. He never moved as he spoke, despite the horrid nature of the topic. His lips hardly ever quavered as he delivered the query.

"I…n…no. No I have not," Sigyn said, trying to gauge Loki's mood from his features. She could not see any emotion in him, however. "Why would you ask that?"

"Curious, I suppose," he replied, finally tearing his eyes from Asgard and looking down into his wine. He swirled it once, halfheartedly, and watched as the ripples calmed.

"Loki," she said with conviction, stepping closer to him. "Don't you dare consider…"

He grinned and stepped away from her, meandering back into the room, away from the balcony.

"It's just as well… even if you had the answer… what kills an Asgardian may not kill a beast of Jotunheim…" he pondered aloud, his statements halted and strained.

Sigyn sighed in frustration, and finally set down her wine. She strode to him quickly, grasped his arms, and forced him to face her.

"You are no beast," she said, staring the truth into his dejected eyes. "You are Loki. Son of Odin, and Prince of Asgard. God of Mischief is your title, and your deeds ring truth to it. You cannot change what you are, Jotun or deviant. But don't you _dare_ be ashamed."

He smiled mildly, bringing his wine to his lips, forcing space between them. "How quaint," he said cynically. "The Goddess of Fidelity tells me not to be ashamed of my title. It is easy to have pride when thy title is a fair one."

She could see that her words meant nothing to him. He was disregarding her as easily as he had in the hold. And what was worse, he stared in her eyes as he blatantly blew her off.

She clicked her teeth in annoyance, and took his drink from him. She turned quickly, set it down on her bedside table, and turned back to him. His surprise at the action was nothing if not muted.

She livened it up by grasping him by the neck and kissing him firmly.


	11. Chapter 11: Digress

**Chapter 11**

**Digress**

Loki allowed her to kiss him for only a moment. He knew what she was doing. Words failed her, so she turned next to her womanly charms. While fair and quite convincing, it was blatant manipulation, and he'd have none of it.

He pulled away from her with a low growl, strolling with purpose to the edge of the balcony and leaning on the railing. He did not hear her follow.

While her actions toward comforting him were a noble attempt at flattery, he couldn't quite figure out _why_ she wished to do so…

Why gain his favor? There could be absolutely no advantage in it for her. And what was all this business about pride? Why _should_ he be proud of his mischievous title? In any case, all of Asgard was out to chastise him for his so-called crimes. What made her see it all so differently? As a master of schemes, he could spot one from the farthest of the nine realms. And this seemed to have "plot" written all over it.

"Wherefore do you become so visceral?" he heard from behind him, in a slightly agitated voice. "Will you accept no endearment from _anyone?"_

He licked his lips in aggravation, and spun to face her. "Why, you ask? _Why?"_ He scoffed, turning his back on her again, leaning against the railing a second time. His anger calmed as an answer came to mind, one that had been echoing in his mind since the mortal had spoken the words to him all those days past.

"…it is in my nature," he said solemnly. He gripped the railing so hard his knuckles whitened.

"No it isn't," she replied quickly, appearing suddenly by his side. Her dresses billowed as the winds crashing against the building swirled about the balcony. Her blonde hair whipped across her face, but her attention was turned only to him. "_Mischief_ is in your nature. This distant, impassive vessel is newly acquired."

She paused, and moved closer to him again. He raised an eyebrow, aware that she was manipulating him with her femininity again.

"Loki, you may not know me, but I know you. I have known you long. Since Horfin. I watched you then, and ever after. You are not so emotionless as you would have me believe…" she sighed, laying a hand gently on his shoulder.

He decided to allow it, but only to see if he could turn her own game upon her. "So, what?" he began, turning only his head to peer at her over her spindle-like fingers that still rested on his shoulder. He couldn't deny that it was nice to feel her close, but the scheme he saw behind it broke the fantasy. "You think I am behaving thusly to conceal something, hm?"

"I do," she said, her fingers tightening on his shoulder. The wound beneath burned for a moment, but he didn't react. "Fear. Or pain. Or both. You will not have me, or your father and brother, see weakness in you. And you deem fear and pain as weakness. But I see them as something else…"

He raised an eyebrow questioningly. How could fear and pain be anything _but_ weakness?

The hand on his shoulder moved to the lapel of his undershirt, and pulled it down his chest. He did not pull away this time. She had already discovered them. Hiding them now would just prove her point.

Her fingers traced the pin-prick mark that resided on his throat, one much like those piercing his shoulders… chest… heart. The mark burned with a slight ache as her small fingers made contact. He did not pull away, but the wince was unavoidable. And she noticed.

"Does it pain you?" she asked, pulling her hand away.

He could find no way around her questioning. He had led himself down this road by allowing her closeness, and now he was trapped. Honesty seemed the only route. For now.

"Occasionally," he replied quietly, taking in a deep breath of the warm wind as it blew his hair from his face.

"Are there more like them?" she asked, trying to look him in the eyes. He avoided her. He feared she would see too much in his features.

He paused answering, his mind suddenly aware of every wound the Leviathan had inflicted. Eleven in total, and all of them suddenly glaring as he thought of them.

"Many," he replied heavily, wringing his hands uncomfortably.

Sigyn considered for a moment. "What are they?"

The infliction rang clear as day in his mind as he thought on the question and he shuddered. Sigyn obviously noticed, but did not comment.

"They are the stings of a Leviathan. They use many tentacles to dig into your body and hold you like a puppet. It is demeaning and excruciating. And, I suspect, a perfect subjugation for someone you wish to manipulate."

Loki could see that she was staring at him through his peripheral vision. He refused to give her the satisfaction of tempting his gaze. _That_ he would control. If, at least, for a small while.

"So it was the Chitauri, then?" she asked in a whisper.

So… she had figured it out by herself. Perhaps there were Asgardians as clever as he.

He did not answer, nor did he look at her. He merely inclined his head and swallowed hard, knowing the tell would affirm her question.

He heard Sigyn sigh, and felt her hand close around his wrist. She began to pull him inside, but he was disparate to leave the streets unwatched.

"Come, Loki," she asked kindly. "The streets are stone. If a hoard of mounted guards makes way toward us, don't you think they'll be heard from inside?"

She made a good point. And he had left his wine inside.


	12. Chapter 12: Surrender

**Chapter 12**

**Surrender**

Sigyn led him to a large, regal chair which faced her bed, and sat him down. She then grasped his wine, and handed it back to him. She could see the doubt and questioning in his gaze, but he did not protest. He breathed deep, sat back, and took a small sip of his wine.

A thought came over Sigyn, and she truly doubted he would let her. But she wanted to give it a try.

"May I?" she asked, motioning for the heavy leather trench coat and shoulder pads he wore. He looked down at them, as if having forgotten he still bore them.

"Fine," he replied curtly, standing again, and shrugging it off. She took it, swiftly tossing it on the bed and turning back to him. She did not let him sit back down. Instead, she laid a hand on his undershirt. He froze, suspicion and a slight anger on his features. He had been manipulated, and he knew it.

"May I see them?" she asked cautiously, knowing she had been caught in her scheme.

He stared at her for a long time. His eyes pierced her like the very dagger he had threatened her with. She only hoped the threat was as false as the weapon had been.

He never actually answered. He simply looked away, and relaxed his stance. She took the initiative then, pulling his shirt up and off. He grudgingly allowed. She would have admired his form were she not so shocked by the marks he bore.

They were small—insignificant to her eyes, but each was an agonizing puncture, just like the one on his throat, with minute bruising. She couldn't stop the gasp that fell from her lips.

"Oh, Loki…" she breathed, bringing her fingers to one that resided just below his collar bone. He winced at the touch, just as he had before, so she pulled her hand away. She observed him closely then, finding one beneath each collar bone, one above each hip bone, and one over his heart. This one seemed far more bruised. She reached for it…

The force with which his hand closed over her wrist sent a shock of pain running the length of her arm, and she yelped.

"Please don't," he asked, and there was true begging in it. "Not that one."

"It pains you?" she asked as he released her. "More than the others?"

"Very much so," he replied, looking away timidly.

She circled him slowly, finding matching scars residing on his back, in the same locations. She swallowed hard as a great pity welled up inside her. She grasped his wrist gently, leading him to the bed so she could sit next to him.

She continued to study the scars, this time without touching, as he stared forward unyieldingly.

"They must have been unbearable…" she whispered, looking to the one at his heart.

"Indeed," he said, reaching for his wine again out of anxiety.

They were both quiet for a long time. Sigyn could not begin to fathom the depths of Loki's sufferings… how trapped he must have felt. She was sure he was considering any number of ways to gain control in the situation back, but for now, he sat quietly, sipping his wine.

"May I ask a favor of you?" he said after some time.

"Of course," she replied. She was sheltering him from the justice of the Court. At best she was being dishonest to Thor. At worst, she was a traitor to all of Asgard. A favor was trifle at this point.

"Exhaustion weighs on me like badly-forged armor," he said, finishing his drink. He turned to her as he prepared to deliver, what she assumed, would be the question.

"Do not let me fall asleep?"

The absurdity of the statement made her scoff. Sleep was the _first_ thing he needed.

"What?" she asked, bewildered. "Why?"

"It's… difficult to articulate," he began, reaching for his shirt. She stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"Don't," she said, interrupting his train of thought. She rose, walking to the fireplace and easily starting one with her striking stones. She hung a pot of water over it, and began tearing herbs and leaves from a bag and dropping them in. "Go on…" she said as she continued to add trinkets to the water.

Loki looked confused, but did not ask. "When I sleep, I… it's…" he stammered, obviously finding the correct verbage difficult. Sigyn paused, straightening and looking at him.

"Is it Nightmare?" she asked with dread.

Loki genuinely smiled. "No," he said simply, turning his head to peer out the balcony again. "The lord of dreams has no purchase in my mind. I struck an accord with him long ago in exchange for…"

He paused, looking back at her as he thought. "Well, his reward is of no consequence. It is not Nightmare."

"You… you've met _Nightmare_," she asked incredulously. Nightmare was a notorious Fear Lord and thug, whose only benefit from dreams was the leeching of fear from nightmares. He was also quite intimidating physically. Not in stature, but in appearance. Rumor had it, anyway.

Loki smiled at her astonishment. "Yes. I have met Nightmare. Ghoulish fellow, but not all that foul. Misunderstood, really."

_Like you,_ she thought to herself immediately, knowing Loki was thinking the same.

She returned to her pot to find the water warmed to a slow roil, and pulled it from the fire. Setting it on her bedside table, she admired the perfect tea-green color of the water. She grasped a small rag of canvas from her toilette, and dropped it inside, waiting as it soaked.

"So…" she began, trying to return him to his original thought process.

"Ah, yes," he smiled impishly, watching the pot as well. "I'm not sure what it is, really. But it is unpleasant, and I wish to avoid it. So… in conclusion, and to reiterate… do not… let me… fall asleep," he said, pausing between words for hard emphasis.

"I understand," she said sternly, slightly offended by his forcefulness. "Now lie back."

"What?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

She pulled the rag from the hot water, wringing out the excess. "Herbs, for the pain. Lie… back," she said with the same forcefulness he had used on her.

He smiled wickedly, appreciating the tossing of his own methods back on him. He leaned back on her bed, watching her like a hawk. She was distinctly aware of what was _supposed_ to be a power shift, and wasn't. He was lying, and she was leaning above him. It should have left her with a feeling of power. But it didn't. Quite the reverse. He took on the visage of a cornered animal, which would strike her on the first wrong move.

She wrung the canvas one more time, and turned back to him, her nerves firing. Something told her he could become volatile at any second. She moved slowly for that reason, watching his pointed features for the first sign of aggression.

"This will… sting," she said quietly, lowering the canvas on the scar under his left collar bone.

He yelped and swore, loudly, but did not pull away or strike her. The cringe on his features told her exactly how painful it was, but she knew the herbs would help. After the initial agony, of course.

He calmed after a time, breathing deeply to control himself as she continued—next with his other shoulder, and then to his hips. She felt slightly awkward touching him so intimately, but he did not react in the least. Finally, she dipped the canvas again and turned to face him to dress the scar over his heart.

He was sitting up when she turned back, and dread covered his features. "That's quite enough," he said with conviction. "I appreciate what you've done for me, but this'll do."

The wound on his heart was the most painful—he had told her so. He was avoiding it.

"Don't be childish," she said, leaning toward him.

He grasped her wrist painfully, keeping her at length. "I said no," he growled dangerously.

She smiled, trying to show that she wasn't afraid. She was, of course, but she had to be outwardly calm.

"And I said yes," she retorted with all the force of a scolding mother. "Let me help you…"

"You've done enough," he said, releasing her and reaching for his shirt.

She had to stop him if she was to accomplish her task. She tossed the rag into the pot, quickly leaning in and kissing him again. He was stricken by this, and she knew he would just pull away again. So she moved in closer, laying a hand on his thigh as she moved her lips across his.

He did not pull away. His body relaxed, and he allowed her, for the first time, to be close.

She could have kissed him forever. His kiss was cold, unlike anything she expected. It was a shock, but in the most pleasant of ways. But she needed to continue, and she had him sufficiently distracted. She found the pot with her right hand, all the while keeping her lips locked on his. She pulled away from him as she brought it between them.

"I'm sorry…" she said genuinely.

He didn't even look confused. He hadn't seen her retrieve it, but his expression told her he knew that she had. He swallowed hard, bracing himself as she laid the canvas gently over his heart.

He cried out, falling back onto the bed and bringing his hand to his mouth to bite down hard on his own palm. He tried to stifle his cries, but it didn't suffice. She pitied him then, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"Shhh," she whispered quietly, hoping no guards roamed the streets nearby. "It won't last long."

He panted hard, his whole body seized up from the pain. The longer she waited, though, the more he calmed. He refused to look at her—instead he stared straight at the ceiling above as the pain receded.

"You tricked me," he said after some time, his voice still shaky.

"Loki the trickster should not have fallen for it," she said simply, removing the canvas and seeing that the wound was not as red and irritated as it had been before.

He smiled. "I may be a trickster, but I am still a man."

"Then I have taught you something," she said, tossing the canvas in the pot and standing to carry it to the balcony for disposal. "You can be tricked by women."

"Woman," he corrected her, sitting up gingerly. "Only one."

She watched him as she tossed the water out over the balcony. "Why Loki, you flatter me," she said jokingly as she sauntered back inside. "Better?" she asked, motioning to his chest.

He sighed, obviously knowing he had been childish. "Yes," he said, breathing deeply and appreciating the lack of pain it brought. "Thank you."

The acknowledgment was so genuine, she could not respond. She set the pot down on the hearth, and smiled at him.

"What now?" she asked, sitting next to him.

He looked utterly lost. "I do not know. I cannot hide here forever. But I will not let this punishment proceed. I've no qualms with being punished. If I've committed a crime in their eyes, they've every right to bring me to justice…"

He paused wringing out his hands. "Just not like this."

She sighed, looking over his dejected form. "What was the verdict, Loki?"

He obviously debated telling her. He made his decision quickly, however, because the news would spread through Asgard quickly regardless.

"They are to hand me over to the Chitauri," he said monotonously.

"What?!" she replied. "But they… did this!" she said, tossing a hand toward his injuries.

"Yes, but they don't know that," he said, grabbing his black shirt and pulling it back on. He seemed pleased that the motion didn't pain him.

"_They_ know that the Chitauri were your allies!" she replied, throwing up her hands in disbelief. "Why in Valhalla would they hand you over to a force that they believe to be your allies!?"

"Apparently," he said, flopping back down on the bed in frustration. "The Chitaurian ambassador known as The Other… a real peach, by the way, contacted Odin sometime during the night. He told him that the Chitauri have claim over my punishment. _My_ problem is why Odin didn't question that. My allies have claim on my penalty? Even to an outsider, it is absurd."

He made a good point. Why _didn't_ Odin question it? She sat in silence as she thought on the matter. All of this could be solved if Loki would just tell his father the truth… tell _Thor_ the truth. They would see that the Chitauri were crooked, conniving bastards, and find some other form of penance for Loki. But Loki _refused_ to tell them. And what was worse, he had commanded her not to. So she couldn't even go to the All-Father and beg his case.

She peered back over her shoulder at him, and found that he had closed his eyes.

"Lo…" she began to wake him, but thought better of it. He had only fallen into that nightmarish state once while sleeping. How did he know it would recur? He desperately needed rest.

But he had asked her not to let him. Much like his command to keep his secrets, she was compelled to obey him…

But he was here because it was safe. And safety meant protection, protection meant health. He needed to rest, to become better. If he would simply rest, perhaps he could find a way out of this mess. She certainly couldn't.

So she decided to let him sleep. And she would face whatever angers he would dole out on her when he woke.

_Elsewhere, in Asgard…_

"My lord!" Heimdall called, approaching from the West.

Thor turned his horse, facing Heimdall. He stood alone on the bridge, awaiting any sign of Loki.

"My vision of Loki has been blocked since the trial," Heimdall began, stopping his horse. "I presume it was he, distorting my sight with his magics."

Thor nodded. He had known this was the case.

"It has recently returned," Heimdall finished with gusto.

"What?!" Thor cried, picking up his reigns and making ready to ride with haste. "Where?"

"The Lady Sigyn, my lord," Heimdall said in a downcast voice. "She is sheltering him in her very quarters.

"She lied!" Thor exclaimed, thinking back to his conversation with the fair lady at the hold. She had most certainly gleaned information from him. Enough to make him trust her. "She lied to me!"

Heimdall did not respond, but merely awaited orders.

Thor calmed. "Very well. I shall go to him. I have a request that you will dislike, however."

Heimdall inclined his head.

"Do not tell _anyone_ else of this," Thor commanded. "Do you understand? Not the court, not even my father."

Heimdall looked disturbed for only a moment. "My lord wishes to quarter his brother. This is not unfamiliar to me. You are a good brother, my lord Thor."

Thor smiled, happy to see Heimdall understand his intentions. "Thank you, Heimdall!"

He turned his horse quickly, kicking it hard into the city.


	13. Chapter 13: Traced

**Chapter 13**

**Traced**

Sigyn meandered around her quarters for a small while as Loki slept peacefully. She had found an old blanket and thrown it over him, and it made him look very small… and powerless.

It started with talking. He would mumble in his sleep, asking, begging for mercy, and his entire body had gone rigid. She sat next to him for a while, hoping it would go away.

It didn't.

It escalated quickly. He began writhing and crying out, his pain obvious. Her mistake grew apparent. He should not have been allowed to sleep.

She tried shaking him, but his hands lashed out against her as if she were some specter in his dreams.

She tried calling his name, quietly at first and then loudly. None of it worked. It was as if he was being tortured, and she could not rescue him.

Just as complete helplessness and despair began to fall over her, a hard knock on her door echoed through the halls. She looked from the door to Loki and back again, trying to decide if she should ignore it. That was when Thor's voice rang through the wide front doors.

"Sigyn, I know he's in there," his booming voice called. "You open this door, or I shall smash it in."

"Oh, curses!" she cried, running to the door and yanking it open.

Thor did not bother with politeness. He shoved her aside and walked in. "Where is he…" he began, but was interrupted by a cry from her bedroom.

"Thor, please have mercy," she began, following closely on his heels as he traversed the hall to her bedroom. "You've no idea what he has…"

Thor stopped dead as he entered and laid eyes on his brother, and Sigyn nearly collided into his massive halted form. He was obviously confused by the nightmare Loki was trapped in. It was quite palpably the same one he had experienced in the hold.

Thor walked slowly inside, watching as Loki whimpered, his hands grasping the blanket around him as his muscles shuddered.

"Thor, please don't…" Sigyn began to beg again, laying a small hand on Thor's great bicep.

"Silence, Sigyn" he said, throwing her off and studying his ailing brother. "I have not come to apprehend him."

She relaxed a bit, and watched as Thor knelt next to the bed, watching Loki as he flailed and cried out again.

"Loki," Thor said quietly, pulling Mjolnir from his belt and raising it. "It is time to wake from this…"

He lowered the hammer over Loki's chest, and Sigyn almost had time to yell, "Don't!"

Loki screamed as he awoke, the weight of Mjolnir on his heart tearing him from the nightmare easily. Thor pulled it back, and Loki pushed away from him like a rabid dog, choking and clutching at his heart.

Sigyn ran to him, leaping onto the bed by his side and grasping his arms. "Steady, Loki. Steady. It is I, Sigyn."

He swallowed hard, his entire body shivering and his hands shaking madly as he tried to calm himself. That was when he noticed Thor.

The dagger reappeared in his hand and he jumped to his knees on the bed, holding it out before him. Thor lowered Mjolnir to the floor, and raised his hands in surrender.

"Relax, brother," Thor said calmly. "I have not come to arrest you."

"Then what are you here for?" Loki hissed acidly, the dagger quavering in his trembling hand. His other gripped his sweat-soaked shirt, just over his heart, and Sigyn could hear his labored breathing. There was a wince in his features, but he disguised it with anger.

"I simply meant to find you, that is all," Thor said calmly, no fear whatsoever at the dagger shoved in his face.

"And now that you have…" Loki began, but paused, clutching at his heart and wincing.

"Let me see," Sigyn cooed, crawling toward him and reaching.

"And _you!"_ he hissed, his anger turning on her tenfold. His free hand whipped out and grasped a handful of her dress, pulling her so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

"I _asked you_ not to let this happen," he snarled, and she felt the dagger at her throat.

"Loki," Thor said forcefully, and Sigyn could see that he was now standing, just behind Loki, and had raised Mjolnir over his head preparing to strike. "Release the lady."

"No," Sigyn said quickly. "I deserve this." She stared at Loki, trying to confer her truth. "He asked of me this favor and I disobeyed. As the Goddess of Fidelity, dishonesty should not come so easily to me. As one who adheres so ardently to his title, Loki cannot fathom my betrayal. I am sorry."

Loki's shock at her words was palpable. The dagger faltered, as did his resolve. His anger was quickly replaced by a realization of his pain. The dagger disappeared, and he collapsed back with a whimper, clutching at his chest and panting heavily.

"Here," Sigyn asked sympathetically, reaching for his shirt. "Let me…"

"No," Loki gasped through his teeth, his eyes flickering to Thor's looming presence.

"Oh, Loki, don't be so naïve," Sigyn said, grasping Loki's shirt. "He is already here, and you shall have to tell him."

"No, I don't…" Loki retorted, trying to shove her away.

"Tell me what?" Thor asked, cocking his head in curiosity. "What all… _this_ is?" Thor motioned to Loki, and Sigyn assumed he was talking about the nightmares.

"Yes," Sigyn said, managing to fight past Loki's protestations and pull his shirt off once more.

"Oh, Loki!" Thor gasped, stepping forward and studying the wounds.

Sigyn, too, took a closer look, and noticed that they seemed much worse now, despite her medicines. They were red and agitated, and looked very painful.

"What are they?" Thor asked, pure sympathy in his voice.

Loki, on the other hand, looked completely perturbed at Sigyn's initiative, which had now exposed him to his brother's questioning. He tossed her an annoyed glance as she moved to put on another pot of herbs.

"Stings of a Leviathan," Loki said dejectedly, obviously displeased with having to divulge to his brother.

Thor thought for a moment. "Those monstrous creatures of the Chit…" Thor began.

"Yes," Loki interrupted, a shiver coursing him. "They have small, surprisingly accurate tentacles which form like the sharpest blade…"

Loki closed his eyes and shivered again, obviously thinking of them.

"I knew it," Thor growled, beginning to pace. "They tortured you!"

"No," Loki said dismissively, watching Thor like a hawk. "They warned me…." He paused, wringing out his hands and looking down at the bed so as to avoid all eye contact with anyone. "The real torture will come if I'm to become their prisoner."

Thor stopped, obviously realizing that this had been his verdict. His face softened as he approached the bed again.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked gently.

"I didn't think Odin was stupid enough to hand me over to those which he knew to be my allies!" Loki replied.

"Watch your words," Thor warned softly. "He simply does not know the depth to which you are owed them."

"At any rate… I thought myself safe from them, and any other punishment would mean mere trifle in comparison. Thus, divulging to you their plans for me seemed redundant at the time…"

"Why not at the trial, then?" Thor asked.

"The ravings of a sentenced man mean little to the court, you know this. Besides…" he paused again, looking to Sigyn as she approached, holding her pot and canvas at the ready.

"A trickster will say any number of things to weasel his way out of a hole."

He was right, and Thor knew it. Sigyn could see it on his face. Even if he _had_ told them, they would have assumed he was lying.


	14. Chapter 14: An Element of Truth

**Chapter 14**

**An Element of Truth**

Loki practically screamed as Sigyn dressed the wound over his heart. He tried biting his own hand to stifle it, but it was no use.

Sigyn swallowed hard, running a hand over his hair as she held the canvas to his chest and waited for the pain to recede. Thor watched with forced passivity.

"Did you need…" Loki began in a pant, trying to relax, "to use the hammer?"

Loki had a point. Thor's hammer on his chest seemed to have made it worse. Worse than his sleeping had.

"The last time, shaking you and calling your name did little good," Thor said, picking at a fingernail. "I skipped them and went for drastic measures to save you time."

"Again, the sentiment is touching," Loki replied with sarcasm, grimacing as Sigyn moved to dressing his other wounds. "But next time, do me a favor and hit me in the head, would you?"

Thor scoffed, blowing off the sarcasm and watching Sigyn. "When did this happen?"

"The infliction?" Loki began, shifting. "Before I ever stepped foot on Midgard. The Chitauri wanted to make sure I held my end of the bargain. Curious, that they didn't meet theirs, and _I'm_ the one to be punished…

"When is he to arrive, anyway?" Loki finished, looking to Thor for the first time.

"The Chitaurian Ambassador?" Thor clarified. "Sometime tomorrow."

"Wonderful," Loki replied with disdain.

"So…" Thor began, looking confused. "Why does it only affect you in slumber?"

Loki looked caught. This was something that had been bothering Sigyn, but she had never thought to ask.

"I am unsure," Loki began, sitting up at Sigyn's inclination and letting her treat his back for the first time. "But it seems it is some kind of…"

He yelped and pulled away as Sigyn laid the canvas over his left shoulder.

"Sorry," she said, looking to see this one redder and deeper than the others.

Loki sighed, ignoring her again and turning back to Thor. "It seems to be some kind of toxin. Residual, from the Leviathan. I have tried my own spells and magics to rid myself of it, but it has proven impervious. It has magical properties itself, as when I sleep, I…"

He choked, his voice catching as he thought about the experience. "I relive it. Vividly."

Sigyn leaned forward, looking Loki in the eyes. There was worry there, and true pain. She looked to Thor, trying to deduce if he believed his brother.

"If it is a poison, the healers of Asgard should be…" Thor began to argue, but Loki cut him off.

"No," he said sharply, leaning back as Sigyn withdrew, walking to the balcony to dispose of her concoction. "Something tells me the attempts would only exacerbate its progress."

"Something tells you?" Thor asked incredulously. "If we listened to your gut feelings at all times, Loki, we would have reached Ragnarok by now."

"No, if _'we' _had listened to me, we would never have invaded Jotunheim, you would never have been banished, the bridge would not be destroyed, and I would never have fallen!" Loki hissed, his anger rising again.

Thor sighed, realizing the path he had led the discussion.

"It is not just a whim of mine, _Thor,_" Loki said, pronouncing his brother's name with loathing. "Each time I think of attempting to rid myself of this affliction, I am met with a deep feeling of dread. A warning, no doubt, built into the torment to keep me low."

Thor sighed, accepting Loki's explanation. "I shall go to the archives. I will search for any information on the Chitauri and these torturous Leviathan."

"Thor…" Loki began, and it was sounding like begging.

"I will say nothing of your whereabouts, brother, do not fret," Thor replied, picking up Mjolnir and walking for the door.

Sigyn leapt up and followed, grasping Thor's bicep gently. "Please Thor…"

"I have already agreed to keep his location…" Thor began.

"I know," she interrupted. "I meant… hurry. He cannot last like this."

Thor looked up, peering behind Sigyn at his brother. Sigyn, too, turned.

Loki had lay back, his arm draped haphazardly over his eyes.

"I will," Thor agreed, taking Sigyn's hand and kissing it. "And you—do not let him sleep. Any means necessary."

She nodded as he stepped out of the threshold. "And we shall have to discuss this newly acquired affection of yourn for lying. It seems he is rubbing off on you!" Thor called as he disappeared from view.

_Indeed_, she thought wistfully to herself.

She turned back and slowly walked into her bedroom, watching Loki. She didn't know much of what happened on Midgard, but what she did know was enough to accurately summarize: attempted usurping, masses of death and destruction, Chitaurian mother ship destroyed, Loki apprehended.

"Are you proud of what you did?" she asked softly as she sat on the end of the bed. Loki had put his shirt on again, no doubt an entirely self-conscious move, and again had his arm draped over his eyes.

"I do not regret, if that's what you are asking," he replied lazily, without removing his arm from his face.

"You don't regret killing hundreds…" she began, raising an eyebrow.

"I never wanted anyone to die…" he said, again quite languidly.

"You just wanted them to roll over and submit?" she asked, immediately knowing it was a mistake.

He sat up, letting his arm drop so he could stare at her. The venom in his eyes was palpable, and she could hardly hold his gaze.

"My rule of Midgard would improve both their station and mine," he began, his voice low and dangerous. "Do not question my politics, maiden, you will not understand them."

The insult stung her, and she sat straighter. "Then explain it to me, _Loki_. How would usurping an entirely sovereign realm improve their standings? You certainly wouldn't think of doing so with another, more powerful realm… say, Hel for instance."

"That is because the dead of Hel do not fight amongst themselves like idle heathens. And Hel has a successful ruler who can contain the might of its not-inconsiderable numbers."

"Hela is no shining example of supremacy, Loki," Sigyn struck back, thinking on the dark and devious woman that ruled the realm of the dead.

"Not my point," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He began to pace, and as his form was thrown into the light, Sigyn could see the effect of his tortures.

His skin was pale and sickly, his eyes sunken and tired. His hands trembled slightly, though he tried to disguise it with movement. His steps were weak, and he strode slowly to make himself appear stronger.

"Midgard is an unruly realm of many monarchs, their discrepancies separating them from each other as clearly as we from Jotunheim," he continued.

"What you would call 'discrepancies,' they call freedom," she replied, watching from the bed as he continued to pace before the balcony.

"Then why do they war with each other?" he retorted, halting and turning to her. "They kill in masses, and when I do it to stop the killing, I'm the villain?"

"You did not do it to stop the killing," she said, smoothing her dress over her thighs. "You wanted power. And it was not in your station to take it from them."

Loki leapt at her, his hand around her throat. He pulled her close, his face mere inches from hers.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what it is in my _fate_ to do, you _viper_. You do not know that, much as I don't. But don't _ever_ tell me what I can and cannot do. You have no right," he was shaking with rage as he spoke. Sigyn wished to retort, but did not want to anger him further.

"It seems no one in Asgard does, Prince," she said calmly.

He took in a deep breath, releasing her with a shove and turning back to his pacing.

"That is correct. There may be no one in the nine realms what could command this body," he thought aloud.

"Except Laufey," she said, taking in a breath and watching him.

He halted sharply, his eyes fixed on some point at his feet. "Perhaps… if he yet lived."

Sigyn sighed, deciding to throw off the argument and think of ways to keep Loki from sleeping. He was obviously exhausted, so it would take effort on her part.


	15. Chapter 15: Any Means Necessary

**Chapter 15**

**Any Means Necessary**

"Are you hungry, Loki?" Sigyn asked, standing and walking to her pantry.

The question brought him out if his thoughts, and he stopped his pacing once more.

"No, not entirely. My condition eradicates my appetite. I will take another drink, however," he finished, walking to her.

She took a cask of mead from her cupboard, and poured him a glass.

"Thank you," he said quietly, returning to his pacing.

"You shall wear treads in my floor with your pacing, Prince," she joked.

"Yes," he smiled awkwardly as he sipped his mead. "But if I sit, I'm lost."

She understood, and pitied him. He needed to stay active, or he would succumb to sleep easily.

Sigyn poured herself a glass, and walked to the balcony threshold, where she could watch both Loki and the city.

"It is time for you to answer one of _my_ questions, Lady Sigyn," he said, approaching her and standing at her side. He watched the city, his eyes scanning for guards at every moment.

"Why?" he asked simply.

She knew exactly what he meant, but decided to play with him.

"Why, what?" she asked innocently, sipping her glass.

"Do not play me," he said quickly. "You know very well. Why are you doing this? And don't tell me it is because I asked you to keep my secrets that night in the hold, and by virtue of fidelity you must…

"I want the truth," he said with finality after a pause.

She sighed, thinking on the truth, and whether he should have it. She let a long time pass, and she thought he would goad her. He did not. He simply let her think.

"I think I may have fallen in love with you, Prince of Asgard," she replied, looking into her drink bashfully.

Although she did not see his reaction, she knew his shock. He took a step away from her, and she could feel his eyes piercing the side of her face.

"That day at the Horfin Ceremony… you tricked me. You tricked me into your entrapment, and when I fell for it, I fell for more." She swirled her glass, watching the ripples so as not to look at him.

He stood for a long time, watching her. It went on for so long, she thought he may have fallen asleep with his eyes open.

Soon, however, he stormed into her quarters, leaving her alone on the balcony. She sighed, taking a lazy sip of her mead. It hadn't been entirely unexpected. Loki had been an outcast his entire life. He had no idea how to accept lov…

She yelped as she was suddenly yanked around by her dresses. She ended in his embrace, his hands on her neck and hip as he kissed her hungrily.

Apparently, he had simply gone inside to put his drink down…

She dropped hers, the glass shattering on the floor. She paid it no mind as the liquid soaked her feet and dress, and neither did he. He was vicious in his need, and his kisses began to explore her lips, jaw, neck.

She whimpered as he pulled her close, his whole body pressing against hers. It was an animalistic reaction… one that she had absolutely no power over.

She ripped his shirt up once more, and he only pulled away to allow it to be torn off. His lips returned to her neck, and she found herself pushing him back into her chambers, her hands on his bare chest.

He collapsed onto the bed as he knees hit the side, and in a desperate attempt to stay close to him, she fell with him. She could feel his hands pulling her dress down her shoulders as she kissed him, and their cool texture made her shiver against him.

She let her kissing wander then, and began gently pressing her lips over his scars. First his neck, then his collar bone, then his heart.

He had become breathless, one of his trembling hands caressing her now bare shoulder, as her dress sagged down her arm.

He moaned softly as she crawled down his body, planting sweet, gentle kisses over the scars marking his hip bones.

Thor's words suddenly made their way into Sigyn's mind, and she smiled in amusement to herself, Loki's skin cool against her lips.

_"Do not let him sleep… any means necessary."_


	16. Chapter 16: Something Wicked

**Chapter 16**

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**

Thor left the archives ultimately disappointed. The records had held no more knowledge than he had previously had. He even searched for their race in other languages: Shintaur, Kitauris, Djairi. They were, at the very least, a mystery to the people of Asgard.

He tried to think on what he did know of them; they were an alien race, hailing from no realm in particular. They traveled the cosmos on massive war machines, the technology for which was also unknown. Their existence had been completely foreign to Asgard before Loki's alliance, so their formation was also unclear. Were they an ancient race that simply hadn't involved itself in external matters until now? Or were they new… a monstrosity of the cosmos spit from the very tree itself? Or, in a darker path of thought, had Loki himself brought them into existence by some devious deed done with any number of fear lords?

Thor knew none of this, and the information on the dreadful Leviathan was equally lacking. They were obviously animal—they had enormous maws and could be killed by fatal blows (as his war compatriot Hulk had so willingly proven). They were also some sort of celestial being, as they could survive in the cosmos itself. What kind of animal needed no realm or earthly dwelling to survive? A ghastly one, indeed.

Thor returned his scrolls to their rightful place and thanked the keeper. Alas, he had spent the better part of the afternoon in the archives, and night now fell.

Thor rubbed his temples as he walked the streets of Asgard. What was he to do? He, Prince of Asgard and heir to the throne, was harboring its most wanted fugitive. It would be so easy to turn Loki over to his father…

But Loki was suffering. In a manner entirely foreign and intangible. It would be cruel to subject him to his father's chosen punishment. Many moons ago, Thor's anger would have told him, '_So what? He killed hundreds, and forced the suffering of many others. Not to mention he blatantly attempted on my life! He deserves all the unkindest sufferings the nine realms can offer! _

But now he had calmed, and had truly thought on the situation. And lo, he still believed Loki in the wrong, perhaps Loki did not see it that way. Perhaps he was attempting what he thought best. This was unlikely, as bettering his own state had always been in Loki's foremost concerns. He was, in all likelihood, merely seeking out his own place of power. He had lost his, and sought to take one of his own.

But then had Thor brought it upon himself? He had known Loki's jealousies, long before he ever acted on them. If he had just been as good a brother to Loki as he was a warrior…

Thor growled to himself as he spun Mjolnir in his hand, thinking deeply on the matter.

_Meanwhile…_

The Lady Sif watched meticulously as Thor exited the archives. The search for Loki was still heavy throughout the city and its perimeter…

Why was Thor wasting time at the archives?

Sif heeled her horse forward, staying several streets away from Thor at all times. He may have been a better warrior than hunter, but he could still spot a tracker for leagues.

She watched as he meandered slowly through the streets, his eyes downcast and Mjolnir waving lazily in his hand. _What does he ponder so idly in such rushed times?_

The search party had located the stolen horse, but it had been stripped of tack, and leaves of brush were tied to its tail, no doubt in order to spook it. The poor mare had probably run leagues from where Loki disregarded her. No doubt, a smooth part of Loki's design. Thus, the search was as heated as ever, and Thor was… reading?

Thor made several turns through the streets, and Sif became confused. These were the quarters of the Elites—the lords and ladies of Asgard who held extremely high social or political power. All of the members of the court resided here…

Thor stopped at a building not unfamiliar to Sif. T'was the Lady Sigyn's, a fine maiden of aristocratic lineage and the Goddess of Fidelity. _Why would Thor come _here?

Thor looked around cautiously before entering unattended, and Sif became extremely curious.

_He enters without welcome?_

Sif dismounted her horse, draping the reigns over a hitching post opposite the Lady Sigyn's building. She stepped close, laying a hand on the door and realizing it was not barred.


	17. Chapter 17: The Catalyst

**Chapter 17**

**The Catalyst**

Thor pushed the door open quietly, sneaking inside so as not to draw attention from anyone outside. He was distracted, however, when a loud commotion met his ears from within. He hurried inside, pushing the door closed as he entered.

Loki was on the ground, wearing only his black pants, bracing himself on all fours. He seemed to be choking, and his entire body shook. Sigyn was kneeling beside him, wearing only a robe.

"What happened?" Thor asked, kneeling beside Loki. He reached to touch him, but Sigyn stopped him.

"Don't" she warned, looking to Loki, whose bowed head was shielded by his mess of hair, which was drenched with sweat. "You'll hurt him."

"What happened?" Thor repeated, watching Loki with pity as he choked and tried desperately to breathe.

"He… we were… I…" Sigyn stammered, then composed herself and began anew. "He fell asleep. But only for a moment."

Thor observed Sigyn's scant attire, and gleaned for himself what had happened. He smiled. "Well, Lady Sigyn, I didn't mean _any_ means…" he began to joke.

"This is no time to jest, Thor," she replied sternly, but he could see that he had embarrassed her.

"I used magic to wake myself," Loki choked. "I was slightly aware, and thus was able to force myself out of it. But…"

He coughed harshly, clutching his chest with a shaking hand, this time sending blood to the floor.

"I fear there is a failsafe within the magic of the venom," Loki continued, spitting yet more blood from his lips. "To prevent me from doing so…"

"And…" Thor began worriedly. "What does it do?"

"I fear it has transferred what had been trapped in my dreams into my reality," Loki choked, a fit of coughing wracking him then, and causing yet more blood.

Thor looked to the wounds on Loki's back, and saw that, indeed, they were worse. They seemed punctures now instead of scars.

"I shall fetch one of th…" Thor began, but was interrupted.

"What is going on here?"

Thor spun around, much as Sigyn did beside him, to see none other than the Lady Sif standing, her weapon drawn, mere feet away.

Thor leapt to his feet and approached her. She looked offended—the realization that Thor was hiding his escaped brother from the court and Odin obvious on her features.

"Have care, Sif," Thor begged, his hand out to his brother. "He is tortured."

"As he should be," Sif said, taking a step back from Thor.

Loki looked up at her from his coughing, obviously angry at the comment. Blood stained his lips and his face was sallow and pained.

Sif caught her tongue at the sight of him, looking away.

"Please, hear me out," Thor offered, grasping her arm gently, but making sure he had a good hold of her. He did not want her fleeing and fetching the court.

"She does not need to know anything," Loki spat, still trying desperately to draw breath. "Her sympathies stretch as far as her raven-black hair."

"Oh, this from the one who _took blade to my hair all those years…"_ Sif began to object, but Thor held up a hand, silencing her.

"Forgive him," Thor said in defense of his brother, watching as Sigyn tried to help him to his feet. "His pain affects his mood."

The moment Sigyn's hands touched Loki's skin, he cried out, collapsing on the floor and shivering in pain.

"I've no time for stories, as I fear you've no ear for them," Thor began, watching as Sif stared at Loki. "So I will be straight with you; the Chitauri have poisoned him, and I fear it slowly kills him. We _cannot_ hand him over to them. T'would be cruel."

"It won't kill me, and neither will they," Loki said around clenched teeth. He rolled onto his back on the floor, clutching himself. "I struck a deal with Hela in a time of desperation not so long ago to eliminate my name from the book of fated dead. I cannot truly _die_. Therefore, the Chitauri will ensure I face an eternity of suffering."

Thor's shock overwhelmed him for a moment. Why would Loki do such a thing? And what in the nine realms did Hela require in return for such a momentous agreement?

"Well…" Thor began, speaking around a lump in his throat. "All the more cruel the punishment becomes."

"On that, I agree," Loki groaned, grasping handfuls of his own hair as his muscles seized with another wave of pain.

Sif sighed beside Thor, her sword hand lowering. "You are certain this is no rouse?" Sif said under her breath, but Loki heard.

"I can fake many things, _Lady Sif,_" Loki replied with a grimace. "Affection toward my brother and his companions most of all. But I cannot fake this."

Thor looked past the insult to see Loki's logic—this type of pain was difficult to replicate.

Thor looked to Sif to gauge her belief. She seemed doubtful, but sheathed her weapon regardless.

"Very well," she resigned with a sigh. A look of apprehension and guilt came over her, and she looked to Thor. "Is he alright?"

"No," Thor said in earnest.

"What can we do?" Sif asked stepping forward and observing Loki unbiased for the first time.

Sigyn wrapped an arm around Loki, his protestations falling on deaf ears.

"Come on," Sigyn cooed gently. "Just get back onto the bed. You look a frightful mess lying here on the floor."

"I would rather…" he began to object, but his voice caught as she hoisted him up slowly.

Thor rushed to help her, grasping Loki's other side and helping him to the bed. Loki collapsed therein, holding himself like a child and pulling away from all contact.

"What else is there?" Thor asked, returning to Sif. "I have researched the Chitauri and found nothing of use. The Ambassador will be here to-morrow to collect. And it… it seems to be getting worse."

"We tell Odin," Sif offered, and Loki visibly panicked. He whipped around quickly, wincing at the pain it brought him, and sat up, facing Sif.

"No," he demanded. "I have disregarded Odin's attempts at aiding me, and thus brought on his passivity. Telling him will only reveal my location and bring me steps closer to the Chitauri."

Sif sighed. "What then?"

Loki thought for a long time, confliction playing plainly over his features. "Amora," he said simply.

"What?!" Thor gasped.

Amora was nearly Loki's equal in conjuring, and an old comrade of his. She had made clear her distaste for the elite of Asgard, and her name was usually mentioned in hatred.

"She is a friend," Loki said, leaning back. His hands shook by his sides, but he tried to hide them. "She will help me. I cannot conjure the power needed to ward off this curse. Every day I grow weaker and ere more incapable."

"But… _Amora?!"_ Thor asked again.

"She is the only one capable, Thor. Disregard your abhorrence of her. I know this to be a difficult task for you, but if you could manage…"

"Yes, yes," Thor interrupted, cutting Loki's insult. "I shall try, but there is no guarantee she will listen to me."

"Just try," Loki said, sighing and closing his eyes in exhaustion.

"Loki…?" Sigyn said quietly, laying a hand on his arm.

He winced, pulling away, but did not open his eyes. "Yes, I'm awake, confound it all. Just tired… so tired…"

Empathy burned deep within Thor as he watched his ailing brother. He grabbed Mjolnir with purpose, and strode from the room, disregarding whether Sif followed or not.


	18. Chapter 18: Amassing Allies

**Author's note: **No, I will not tell you what "slattern" means :-) I will give you a hint though- it's Shakespearean, and it's not very nice.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

**Amassing Allies**

Thor strode to the lower end of Asgard City quickly, his footfalls echoing as he walked alone. He assumed Sif had stayed to ensure Loki did not escape. She was a good woman, but she could be quite suspicious sometimes.

The lower end housed Asgard's less favorite citizens… those whom the elites disregarded due to appearance, or those whose actions did not quite merit imprisonment, but were not satisfactory in the eyes of the elite. Thus, Amora.

Thor knew little of her. Loki had befriended her long ago… soon after the Horfin games, it seemed. She had proven herself adept with magic by eliminating from the games, in a spectacular show of skill and theatrics, the warrior Hogun. She had scuffled with Sif, but not managed to best her—it probably explained the utter disdain the two held for each other. Amora caught Loki's eye, but had eventually fallen prey to one of tricks as well, just as many of the other contestants had, Sigyn included. But instead of being offended by her loss to Loki, she took to admiring him, and learning what she could from his knowledge of magic. He didn't seem to mind. Her undeniable beauty didn't hinder this, either.

But with her incredible knowledge of magic, Amora did no good deeds. She was no prankster, like Loki. She simply used her gifts to thwart the efforts and escapades of Asgards forces. Thor wasn't sure where her distaste for her own city arose from, but it had become clear in her actions that she was very loathsome of her home realm.

Thor was brought from his thoughts as he heard thundering hoofbeats behind him. He spun quickly, expecting to find sentries of the court, but instead finding Sif aboard her stallion.

"Decided to join me, eh Sif?" Thor joked as she brought her mount to a walk beside him.

"Thought you might need backup," she said with a smile. "Besides… your brother has the mouth of a viper."

"That he does. And his affections toward you are quite limited, if any" Thor responded, turning down an alley. Sif followed, her horse shying and spooking at the shadows and hidden places the lower end was always home to.

"I cannot imagine why," she said, smiling.

Thor smiled in return, knowing exactly why. He silenced, however, as he found himself arrived at Amora's door.

He sighed, disregarding his trepidations and laying his fist on the door thrice.

"Amora!" he called. "Enchantress of old, your sovereign calls. Open up!"

There was movement within, and soon the door was pulled wide, revealing the stunning and deadly Enchantress.

She was adorned in very little—a robe of emerald which cut extremely low, revealing the flesh of her bosom. Its length was naught, as it stopped high on her thighs, revealing an uncouth amount of skin. The fur boots she wore rose above her knees, and a blade could be seen residing within the depths of the right calf. Her pure golden hair fell to her hips, in waves that put the oceans of Valhalla to shame.

For all this beauty, she was equally matched in scorn.

"What brings you to my door, petty warrior," she asked in a silken tone, her eyes roving his arms for a moment before traveling to Sif. "And alas! Followed at the heels by his desperate begging _slattern!"_

"Hold your tongue, vile snake, lest you forget…" Sif hissed, her hand instinctively lying upon her sword.

"Sif!" Thor asked, holding up a hand to steady her. "Let us put aside our differences. Loki is in need of your talents, Lady Amora."

"I require no title, Odinson, as I am clearly no _lady_," Amora cooed.

Thor thought he heard Sif say under her breath, _"clearly," _but Amora obviously did not hear.

"Loki is of mastery well above my own," Amora continued. "What could he possibly need me for? And why does he send his bastard brother to me instead of attending me himself?"

Thor sighed, knowing not how best to explain it to her.

"Loki has been poisoned by some unknown race," Sif said flatly. "His skills suffer for it, and thus he cannot heal himself. He sent us to fetch you."

It seemed as good an explanation as any. And, at any rate, it seemed to have grounded Amora from her jests and insults. She actually looked… worried.

"Where is he?" she asked, requiring no further explanation. Thor made a note to inquire Loki about the true depths of his relations with Amora at a later date.

"In the chambers of the Lady Sigyn," Thor replied, watching as Amora stepped back inside to retrieve a long, elegant coat of fur to throw over her shoulders. She paused at the news.

"Within the heart of elite quarters, while a manhunt is underway for him? I find myself not surprised. This trickery reeks of Loki. And alas, the Lady Sigyn! Laufeyson seems more eloquent with women than I thought," she said with a wicked smile.

_He told her of his lineage as well?!_ Thor thought, following as Amora fetched a horse for herself and Thor. _I must certainly speak with him about his ill-mannered associates!_

After only moments of hard riding, they found themselves returned to Sigyn's quarters. Amora would have received strange looks showing her face in the elite side of the city, had any of them been present. Most, if not all, were aiding in the hunt for Loki. Thor did see the logic in Loki's choice. If they but returned to their homes, they would notice the strange behavior around Sigyn's quarters and quickly locate him.

Amora strode inside confidently, peering about Sigyn's chambers with distaste.

"Your eccentricity is only outmatched by your beauty, Lady Sigyn," she preened as she meandered into the bedroom. Thor wasn't sure if it was meant as an insult or a compliment. Probably the former.

Loki sat up, smiling at the sight of his old friend. "Amora," he said happily. "I doubted you would come."

Amora had obviously just seen the wounds littering Loki's chest. Her face hardened, and she frowned.

"Yes, so did I," she replied. "You could have sent someone I dislike a bit less, and I may have been more inclined," she sneered, peering at Thor and Sif.

"I know no such persons, Amora," Loki said with a genuine smile.

"Valid point," she replied, shrugging off her coat and tossing it onto the nearest chair with passivity. Sigyn rolled her eyes at Amora's complete disregard of formality, and shown even more repulsion at Amora's scant attire. "So," Amora began anew. "How can I be of assistance?"

"You remember the venture we took into Vanaheim?" Loki asked, his eyes peering to those present. Thor sensed he was trying to speak in codes—messages only Amora would understand.

"Vaguely… that was quite long ago…" Amora replied.

"You remember the spells I taught you there?" Loki asked, inclining his head.

"I do," she replied simply.

"I shall think that will do," Loki said, smiling at the confusion on the faces of everyone but Amora.

"Very well, if it is your wish," she said, looking to the fire. "I will need flames."

Sigyn strode to the hearth, picking up her striking stones.

"No need, _kind lady_," Amora said, walking to her and taking the stones. "I will do't. I shall also need privacy."

"Certainly not," Sif said simply. "I'm not leaving you two deviants alone to concoct even more trouble."

Amora rolled her eyes as she turned to Sif. "You flatter us both. However, I require privacy on the basis of pride. This promises to be unbearably excruciating. I should think Loki would not like any of you present."

Thor looked to Loki, as did everyone else. He downcast his eyes, looking somewhat timid. "She speaks truth. I do not wish any of you to see me…"

He struggled to find words, but thankfully everyone understood. Thor used a gentle arm to turn Sif away, and motioned to Sigyn.

"Very well," Thor said looking at Loki. He still would not look up, but Thor could see fear in his posture. "Take care, Amora. He may be a fugitive, but he is my brother. Fear me, if you fail."

"I shall not, but the sentiment is _oh so touching_," Amora sneered, waving goodbye to him with spindly fingers.

* * *

**Second author's note:** attentive readers will notice my extensive use of snake imagery. It's not meant to go anywhere in _this _story, but hardcore Loki fans will know why I did so and share some amusement :-)


	19. Chapter 19: The Trick

**Chapter 19**

**The Trick**

Thor stood outside for a long while, waiting alongside Sif and Sigyn. Sif became bored quickly, and took to brushing her stallion, which still stood tied to the post opposite the building. Sigyn paced, looking extremely worried.

It wasn't long before Thor could hear the muted screams coming from inside. He distinctly knew them to be Loki's, as did Sigyn. Sif tried to be unresponsive, but it was clear that she, too, felt pity.

Thor worried that anyone near might overhear, but it did not last long. He rubbed his temples, seeing the sun rise to the north. The Chitaurian ambassador… The Other, as Loki had called him, would arrive in mere hours. Asgard would not be able to provide. This was a predicament for more than just Loki.

Mere minutes after their departure from the building, Amora opened the door once more.

"It is done," she said simply, turning back inside. Thor followed quickly, curious as to Loki's condition.

Once inside, Thor found his brother sitting on the side of the bed, resting his arms on his knees and visibly trembling. His hair was drenched with sweat, as was his bare chest. And the scars remained…

"What…" Sigyn began to ask, motioning to the bed. The sheets were scorched black.

"Ah, yes," Amora said, wiping her hands with a towel. "An unfortunate side effect. I would offer to replace them, but… I simply don't care," she finished cheerfully.

Sigyn scowled at her. "So…" she asked after some time.

"The toxin is removed. The wounds will heal in time," Amora said, extinguishing the fire with a wave of her hand.

"How…?" Thor asked, still watching Loki as he recovered.

"I blazed his very veins with flame," Amora responded, her voice changing. Pity seemed clear on her face. "While it has the unfortunate effect of nearly killing the host, it also eliminates all possible toxins."

Thor looked to Loki, the thought of it making him shiver. "You taught her this magic?" he asked, exasperated.

"As a defensive strategy, yes," Loki replied, his voice hoarse. "Luckily, it does have the fortunate ability to eliminate foreign contaminates from the body."

Thor sighed, considering the many things he had truly never known about his own brother.

"Loki, I hate to tear you down further," Sif said, and Thor was unsure if she was in earnest. "But the Chitaurian ambassador arrives quite soon. I would not be surprised if he was already here.

"Very well," Loki said dejectedly, standing and pulling on his shirt carefully. It was quite obvious he was still in pain. He retrieved his long leather coat from the chair nearby, donning it as well. For the first time in a long while, Loki looked a fraction of his former self. "Let us be off for the court."

"What, you mean us to hand you over?" Thor asked skeptically.

"What choice do I have?" Loki replied, walking for the door before anyone could stop him.

Thor followed closely, as did Lady Sigyn. Both began to protest together.

"Loki, you cannot be so flighty…

"This is absurd, not hours ago you were adamant on _not_ going…"

"Do not be rash, we will figure something…"

"Both of you!" Loki yelled above them, turning on them. "Be silent. I have a plan. As when do I not. I shall attempt to divulge to Odin, if he does not accept, then I will let The Other take me."

"Loki!" Sigyn objected.

"WHAT did I say?!" Loki scolded, holding out a hand to her. "Silent."

Sigyn was taken aback by his forcefulness, but he continued regardless.

"In that case, I will attempt to find an escape from them once removed from Asgard. I will not allow this matter to spread any further."

Thor could not believe his ears. Loki was… protecting Asgard? It made no sense. His turnaround did not make sense either. Only hours ago he had been panicked about his transfer to The Other's custody. Now… he seemed entirely confident about the matter.

Something was off here.

Thor walked with Loki regardless of his feelings. Amora walked with them, despite her usefulness having run out. Why would she accompany them to the court? Something was starting to scream _Loki_ about this whole thing…

When they reached the side of the city, Thor saw him…

The Other.

He was standing solitary in the square before the court building. His skin smoked from the power of his journey into the realm unaided by the bridge. He was much adorned like the Chitauri Thor had seen on Midgard—jagged armor covering strange, marred limbs. A helm covered his eyes, and yet more metal surrounded his mandible. The only feature visible of his face were jagged, pointed teeth that sent a shiver down Thor's spine. Thor subconsciously wondered to himself how he managed the journey without the Tesseract. No doubt more of the Chitauri's monstrous technology.

Several things happened at once. Loki seemed to panic at the sight of The Other, his steps halting their traveling party. As he did this, a sentry called out that he had found Loki, and seemingly from everywhere around them, guards began to close in.

Loki spun around, upset and flustered. "I can't… I can't do this…" he choked, his eyes wild.

"Calm, Loki, I will speak to father…" Thor replied, but Loki took matters into his own hands.

He spun quickly and ran, away from Thor and away from the square. Amora accompanied him, fighting off any guards that closed in.

It was hopeless, however, as in a matter of minutes, nearly every sentinel Asgard possessed had descended, backing Loki toward Thor once more.

Loki spun, dropping to his knees, grasping Thor's cape desperately. "Please… _please, Thor!"_

_ This is wrong…_ Thor thought to himself.

"This is not Loki," Thor said aloud, and the guards which had surrounded them fell deathly silent. Not even a hoof beat the ground in impatience.

"Loki would never beg," Thor said, yanking his cape away, and noticing that it went through Loki's hands.

Loki smiled wickedly before him, standing slowly.

"Indeed, he would not," he said confidently, his apparition promptly disappearing, leaving the group of them to gasp in horror at his sudden and second absence.


	20. Chapter 20: A Paradox of Time and Deceit

**Chapter 20**

**A Paradox of Time and Deceit**

Loki gasped as the last of the flame spell left his body, leaving him in possibly more pain than he had ever felt. He was relieved however, as the sudden realization fell over him that it was over… it was gone… and it was over.

"I'm sorry," Amora said, the emotion in her words so powerful they broke. "I do not wish to put you in pain this way."

"It was required," Loki said, swinging his legs off the bed and standing cautiously. His entire body pained him, and he groaned as he stretched his arms. "And I will be forever in your debt."

"You could repay me now," she cooed, lithely maneuvering herself in front of him, her long, porcelain fingers splayed across his chest.

He smiled deviously, wrapping a hand around her waist and pulling her scantily-clad body against his. He wallowed in the feel of her warm flesh against his.

"I could," he said, his hand forming patterns on her lower back. "But I've a job to do."

With that, he pulled away, leaving her wanting more, as was his penchant.

"You are an absolute _tease,_ Loki," she hissed, watching him dress slowly.

"Hm, yes," he said with a smile. "Save it. Perhaps at another time. You never know when I might need saving again."

She smiled, obviously making note. She would never let him forget a debt, and he knew it.

"So, was it all real?" she asked, leaning her weight on one leg and crossing her arms.

"Mostly," he replied. "I was forced to be truthful with them. I may have exaggerated at times to gain the sympathies of my brother and the Lady Sif."

"And Sigyn? What of her?" Amora asked as Loki shrugged his coat on, his shoulder greaves clanking as they fell into place. He finally felt a returning of his strong, vital image.

"She, I won over easily," he said with a smile.

"You did so in the same manner you did me?" Amora asked sensuously, a finger hooking the belt of his pants.

He smiled genuinely at her. "The very same," he said, leaning in and kissing her viciously. Her only reaction was to grin at his theatrics.

"It was wise of you to mention Vanaheim," she said, moving away from him.

"Yes, I knew you would decipher it," he said with an even wider smile.

He thought on their experience in Vanaheim, in which Amora had fought a particularly presumptuous Vanir, and Loki had taught her the flame spell. However, he had also taught her how to create apparitions of herself in order to escape punishment thereafter. He knew she would take it at face value; he needed her help curing the affliction, but he would then also need to flee.

"You're sure you can keep up the charade?" he asked, his visage forming a specter on the bed, bent over and suffering.

She smiled, mocking affront at the question. She formed a ball of pure energy between her hands, blue wires snapping out in their uncontrollable waves. "I shall protect him as if he were you."

"Good witch," he said, knowing she would take it as a compliment.

She did, meandering forward and kissing him one last time. She was entirely different from Sigyn in her seductions; where Sigyn was soft and gentle, Amora was forceful and animalistic. He could not decide which he preferred…

"The always conniving nature of your ventures never ceases to amaze me," she said, watching as he walked to the balcony.

"Tis a burden, I assure you," he said with a grin.

He took a moment to pause and peer about the home of the Lady Sigyn. He lamented that he had used her so; she, who had shown him true kindness and honesty. She had professed love, something he had never truly known. And he was to toss it away like bloodied armor. He doubted it was what she truly felt; after all… he was Loki. No Asgardian _loved _Loki. But such was the way for the truly just…

"Good luck in your crusade, Loki, son of Laufey," Amora said with sensual passion, turning to the door to retrieve the others.

"I thank you, Enchantress of mine," he said venomously, leaping from the balcony and heading into the city.


	21. Chapter 21: Rabbits in a Snare

**Chapter 21**

**Rabbits in a Snare**

Loki tread slowly, his spell of invisibility allowing him to walk the streets completely unguarded. He knew Thor and the specter of himself would soon be entering the city. His subconscious controlled the apparition, but it took him little effort. It acted as he would, and thus was no large task to control.

Until, of course he required his distraction. The armory would be guarded well, unless alarum was sounded. This would only happen if the sentries thought they had located him. So he needed to create a great havoc, far from the armory so as to draw away all guards but one, as was tradition and custom order.

He could see through the eyes of his farcical self-image, and took notice of the guards. They had detected his presence in the city.

It was time.

Loki crouched behind a large obelisk as, in his mind, he sent his specter running through the streets. Many more guards would heed the call if they thought he was attempting a second escape. He grinned to himself at his own deviousness.

He peered around the obelisk to see all but one guard running from the armory to heed the call.

_Like rabbits in a snare._

He straightened, pulling his greaves tight around his wrists as he strode from behind the obelisk, making himself visible. He could have walked right past the guard with his invisible spell, but he would miss the chance to see the man's exasperated face. And where was the fun in that?

He wandered slowly toward the armory, and the guard's eyes visibly widened. He opened his mouth to call for assistance, but Loki raised a hand, calling on his ever-present reserve of magic.

"Quiet, petty fool, the adults are playing," he toyed, and the man panicked as he found that he could not speak.

He drew his sword as Loki strolled closer. Loki smiled with mocked pity, watching as the guard prepared to strike.

The blade shattered into a thousand pieces as it collided with his side, the fractured metal scattering at his feet. The guard looked down in shock to find the blade frozen.

"Tsk, tsk," Loki chastised with satisfaction, walking past the man slowly and wagging a finger back and forth. He laid a hand on the man's shoulder, and he barely whimpered as his entire body turned to uniform ice.

The theatrics of it left Loki rejuvenated, and he strode through the armory with purpose. There were many weapons he could have chosen, but he had eyes for only one. He exhaled heavily as its familiar weight met his hands, its power coursing through him like the flames of Amora.

"Brought down by your own weapon, worthy enemy," he said quietly to himself, turning the scepter over and over in his hand, the bright blue of its gem illuminating the entire hold as he fed its magic.

He turned, walking slowly, feeling now that his apparition had failed him. He had known it would, but its purpose had been to provide him a sliver of unguarded time in which to steal away to the armory. And that, he had.

He felt a pang of nostalgia for his old theatrics, and returned via magic his gold armor and horned helm. It also gave him a taste of pride; of power. These, he desperately needed if he was to succeed.

He emerged from the few winding alleys on the opposite side of the square, finding Thor and his ruffian bunch. He spotted Amora among them, and had half a mind to wink at her. It had all fallen into place so nicely.

Now came the hard part.

"_Looookiiiii,"_ the Other hissed from his location at the center of the square. His animalistic voice drew the attention of everyone close, but no one made a move. It was clear they were curious as to Loki's next move.

"Lovely to see you again," Loki said sarcastically, approaching slowly and turning the scepter over and over in his hand.

"You have a debt to pay," The Other growled, pacing to his left and beginning a cycle of circling—one man staying opposite the other at all times.

"Ah, yes, that," Loki said confidently. "On that subject, is it not odd that your army failed _me,_ and yet it is _I_ who must pay?"

"Our army served their purpose," The Other snapped. "And the events of Earth are past and not a matter to be debated. _I warned you… _He _warned you._"

Outwardly, Loki retained his ever-present pride and confidence, but inwardly he shivered at the reminder.

"Yes, well, as a matter of comparison, I would call us equal. I failed to fetch you the Tesseract _just_ as you failed to hand me Earth," he replied simply.

"As a matter of honor," The Other began, closing his circle and approaching Loki. "I cannot rescind on my promise to reprimand."

"Very well, it seems we are at an impasse," Loki said, knowing well that The Other expected no such thing.

They stared each other down for mere moments. Loki's fist tightened around the scepter, and he could see The Other's marred hand closing around a weapon at his hip.

Loki struck first, and viciously. He snapped the scepter across The Other's face, the metal ringing out as it collided. The Other hardly stumbled, and pulled a long, mechanical sword from his belt.

Loki distinctly noticed Thor rushing in from the edge of the square, Mjolnir drawn.

"No!" Loki yelled, holding up a hand. Thor stopped, watching him. "This is a matter that involves only me."

"Foolish, to deny aid," The Other said, raising the sword. "You will need it."

Loki parried as the sword swung toward him, blocking the hit and managing another of his own. The Other grunted as Loki managed to slash the blade of the scepter across his chest. The Other struck again, and again Loki blocked, but this time it glanced his ribcage. The moment it struck him, shock and paralysis momentarily overtook him, and he fell to one knee, gasping in pain.

The Other laughed. "Amusing, that I shall now force of you what you childishly required of the Earthlings." He made a half-moon pattern of slow pacing before Loki as he tried desperately to regain control of himself.

"Kneel!" The Other hissed, striking Loki in the chest with the sword.

The same bolt of electricity passed through him, and he collapsed to his knees.

"It is a blessing you did not usurp the humans," The Other said slowly, circling. "Such a piteous, _childish_ thing has no place in royalty."

Anger flashed before Loki's eyes, but he still could not rise.

"You will lie in pools of your own blood before me, filthy dog," Loki gasped, thinking hard on how to gain the upper hand.

"Ah, but you forget, Loki," The Other began. "_I know how to hurt you!"_


	22. Chapter 22: Royale

**Chapter 22**

**Royale**

Thor watched helplessly as The Other paced before a kneeling and obviously injured Loki.

"_I know how to hurt you!"_ The Other hissed, leaning in and laying a hand on Loki's chest. It wasn't an entirely violent move, but he must have had some sort of weapon attached to his wrist, because Loki screamed, grasping at his chest, and yet unable to pull away.

Thor could see Odin, standing with indifference on the other side of the square. Frigga stood beside him, her anxiety for her adopted son clear on her face. Thor felt an undeniable need to help his brother—to stand beside him in battle.

But Loki needed to vanquish his own enemy, and Thor knew this. It was a matter of closure, and he would accept it. For now.

"Poor, pathetic Godling!" The Other growled, releasing Loki. He collapsed onto all fours, the scepter loose in his hand. "Doomed to a life of lies and suffering. You will be reborn each time the slow tortures of Thanos eventually kill you, and he will just enslave you once more!"

Loki shivered at the name.

"Lies and suffering, yes," The Other hissed. "Your true father was ashamed of your diminutive stature, and your adoptive one took you in out of misplaced obligation. It is no wonder you are a failure…"

Loki screamed with rage, leaping to his feet and striking The Other several times with the scepter.

It was almost enough.

The Other blocked a blow, once more slamming his fist against Loki's chest and shocking him to the ground.

"Odin would have you believe that he took you in out of pity at your solitude and innocence," The Other began again, pacing before a downed and trembling Loki. "But he possesses not even that…"

"Silence, foul beast!" Odin called from the other side of the square, slamming his trident on the ground like a gavel.

_How does The Other even _know _these things…?_ Thor thought to himself.

The Other grinned at Odin's boisterousness, leaning down to whisper in Loki's ear. Thor could just barely make him out…

"_After inadvertently causing his death, Bor, father of Odin, returned to him in a vision and demanded recompense. Do you know what this was, dear Loki?_"

Loki was obviously pained, but he listened intently. His curiosity on the matter overrode his desire to vanquish The Other.

_No, Loki!_ Thor thought to himself. "He spews venom!" Thor called. "Do not listen!"

"_To take up the son of an enemy as his own… so you see Loki? Your beginnings are not even formed from pity. You are the bastard son of obligation and hate!"_

Loki screamed with rage, leaping to his feet and battering at The Other with the scepter. The Other did not expect his level of fury, and was beaten back several steps. Loki was fuming with anger, and managed to crush the sword from The Other's hand with a single blow.

Loki leapt, spinning in the air and delivering a hearty kick to The Other's chest. The Other fell, landing on his back with a _clang!_

Loki bounded on him like a predator, his face twisted with putrid rage. He held the scepter to The Other's throat, leaning in close to whisper his ravings in his face.

"I am subservient to _no man_, least of all _you,_ faint-hearted executioner!"Loki hissed, the blade cutting The Other's throat.

"You can kill me, but he'll still be after you," The Other choked against a throatful of his own liquids. "The wrath of Thanos falls upon you, Loki, and you will bear it for all eternity!"

"Let him come, then," Loki spat, ensuring that the blade dug deeper into The Other's throat. "And he too will truly know _Loki's wrath!"_

With that, he screamed in a fit of bloodlust, pulling the scepter back and firing a bolt of its energy as he lodged it firmly in The Other's heart.


	23. Chapter 22 and a half: In Medias Res

**Chapter 22.5**

**In Medias Res**

**(These being events occurring in tandem)**

Sigyn's heart leapt as The Other lie motionless beneath Loki. Loki breathed heavily for a moment, watching the body beneath him with pure hatred.

"Oh, peace be to Valhalla," Sigyn praised with relief, turning to Thor.

The sight that met her was odd… Thor seemed frozen in time, just as Sif did beside him…and Amora too…and the guards.

Even the horses were motionless—stuck in physically impossible positions. Sigyn peered at everyone around her, wondering if somehow she had fallen into a disturbed slumber.

It was then that she saw Loki rising from his location in the center of the square. But he hadn't really… there was still a visage of him leaning over the body of The Other.

A second, more realistic Loki slowly approached her.

"How… how are you doing this?" Sigyn asked, looking to Thor, whose very cape was frozen, billowing out before her.

Loki smiled genuinely, and there was something different about him. His skin was no longer pale and sickly, and his eyes were brighter. He looked exactly as she remembered him before his fall from grace.

"As I told Thor…" he began, his voice making an echo that she couldn't place. She was distinctly aware of exactly how much magic she was experiencing. "I have ancient knowledge…"

Sigyn disregarded the question, and simply approached Loki, looking up at his taller frame.

"What will you do now?" she asked.

"You do not want the answer to that question, dear lady," he said with regret, looking over his shoulder at the motionless form of Odin. Sigyn became aware of a resolved, desolate air to Loki's voice.

"Loki…"

"You told me before that you loved me. I know this to be your one true lie," he said with resolution.

"But Loki, I…" she began to protest.

"Perhaps you fell in love with my craft. Perhaps it was my cunning. I do not know. But you cannot love me, and I will tell you why—I am Loki. Not born of Asgard, not made for Jotunheim. I am not _of _these nine realms, and thus cannot be loved by them. Or any individual in them.

"Loki, I…"

"Please, let me finish," he said, holding up a hand gently. "Not long ago, this fact hurt me. So much so that I was willing to destroy whole worlds to seek out my vengeance on Thor and Odin. For it was they that weaved my belief that I _could_ belong. But I see now, that I was made for more than that. Perhaps mischief is a realm of his own…

"But what is mischief without fidelity?" she finally said, her heart breaking for him. She had heard what The Other had said about Bor, and didn't know if it was true. But her greater intellect said it was, and had thus created a new monster in him entirely.

He smiled sympathetically, stepping toward her and laying an incredibly gentle hand on her cheek.

"I have my playground, Lady Sigyn," he said, staring in her eyes honestly for the first time. "Don't worry about me," he finished, his thumb brushing her cheek compassionately. The anguish within him seemed endless.

He grasped her chin softly in the palm of his hand, angling her face to his. He kissed her passionately, and her mind was made; this was Loki. He had simply left his earthly body behind, lying over The Other, in order to address her one last time.

"Perhaps I could have loved you in another eternity," he said, releasing her and stepping away.

"What… what about this Thanos character?" she asked in a panic. She sought to say anything to keep him from walking away.

But alas, he continued to back away, toward the apparition of himself. "Thanos is power itself. Death itself. He is a killer of Gods; he grinds immortality in a mortar and pestle made of his own teeth. If he decides to waste his time coming after me, it'll be more than Loki that falls."

_Ragnarok…_ Sigyn thought to herself with horror. She watched his tall form, proud and elegant, as he stood over his own motionless silhouette.

"Why did you choose to speak to me?" she asked curiously. There were any number of people he could have spoken to. Thor. Frigga. Maybe even Odin. At the least, they were his family. And what of Amora, who he seemed so close to… none of them would ever know this conversation had taken place. Why had he chosen her?

"Because you are the only one worth speaking to, Lady Sigyn," he said with a resolved smile. She did not agree, but she didn't question him. Her heart sank as she watched his golden-hewed form stand solitary in the square.

"Will you at least flee?" she begged.

He smiled genuinely at her. "Ah, but you heard me, Lady Sigyn. I do not beg. Why would I flee?"

With that, he knelt, his apparition and his true form becoming one, and time resumed.


	24. Chapter 23: Resolute

**Chapter 23**

**Resolute**

"And martyred thus, am I brought to my knees," Loki soliloquized quietly, holding himself up on the weight of the scepter, which still resided deep within the chest of The Other. "But in penance, there be no man before me."

Thor sighed with relief as he witnessed the death of The Other. Loki yanked the scepter from his lifeless body, collapsing back on the golden tiles of the square. The weight of his fight, worldly and otherwise, was now falling on him tenfold.

A certain panic hit Thor then as he realized that Odin was closing in on Loki. Thor knew not his father's plans for Loki, but they promised to be devious. Unlike Thor, Odin had witnessed no suffering on Loki's part and still sought punishment.

_Run!_ Thor thought to himself. _Come on, Loki, flee!_

Thor heard a similar declination from the Lady Sigyn behind him. She had stepped forward, an arm outstretched, her blue dress billowing in the morning breeze. "Run, Loki!" she breathed, watching with strain.

Loki did no such thing. Diminished as he was, he simply looked up at Odin dejectedly and tossed the scepter away in surrender. Thor jogged to them quickly, watching his father closely and taking note of the mortals' muzzle in his hand.

"Thanos?" Frigga asked quietly from behind Odin. "Who is Thanos?"

"And why do you show such fear of him?" Thor added. Loki turned to look at him but did not speak.

"Speak, son, for it may be your only alibi," Odin said with purpose.

Loki turned on him, that acid rage returning to his face, and Thor knew why. With the speech The Other had delivered, Loki despised, now more than ever, the title of 'son.'

Loki pushed himself to his feet slowly, wincing at certain pains. He stood for a long time, eye to eye with Odin. Thor thought a battle of them, their very eyes waging it.

Loki then stepped in close to Odin, and Thor noticed him reach down and take the muzzle from him. He stared his adoptive father in the eyes as he fastened it around his own jaw, locking it in place.

_And thus goes Loki,_ Thor thought to himself. _A hard-fought battle has he faced, with more than one foe. I regret that he counts me as one of them. _

Thor watched as guards closed in, fastening all manner of manacles on Loki's wrists and ankles. Sigyn and Amora watched from afar, the worry and pity clear on both their faces.

Thor accompanied the sentries as they escorted Loki back into the city. He knew not what Odin had in store for his brother. He sensed that, with this latest development, Odin would not allow Loki to leave Asgard. That did not mean, however, that his punishment would be any less severe. And this Thanos character… if his might was so formidable that it forced the great and proud Loki to show fear, he would probably not waste time on the small matter of punishing a failed underling. Though, Thor made note to keep watch for disturbances in the nine realms.

Thor breathed deeply as he looked to the monstrous metal contraption Loki had now deemed to wear upon his face by choice.

_He will never speak another word to me, nor to Odin, if he can help it, _Thor regretted.

And so Loki's words had been silenced, but his eyes spoke volumes. And within them, Thor saw nothing but a new breed of rage; an entirely new mischief plotting within him.


	25. Epilogue

Epilogue

_The Horfin games came down to Loki and Thor, as everyone had known they would. Volstagg and Fandral had fallen prey to one another's victory lust. Hogun had been eliminated by an impressive show of magic from Amora. The Ladies Sigyn and Amora had fallen prey to Loki's tricks. Thor had made tactic of avoiding them altogether and amassing an impressive hoard of game, but had no choice but to eliminate Sif when confronted. It had been a worthy battle between them, and would impress the Elders enough that they would hand over the title of warrior to Lady Sif regardless of her loss. Thor had known, in the end, he would eventually have to eliminate at least one, for it would be the last contestant._

_He had known in his heart of hearts that it would be Loki. He had hoped against it, but he had ultimately known. No man or woman in Asgard better knew how to hunt down the gullible better than Loki._

_Loki had confronted him in an open valley near the Gamana's entrance. It all seemed so planned, too. Thor had amassed his game there, so Loki would obviously plan to take it once he had eliminated Thor, thus winning him the games. The entrance to the Gamana also held a wide, high-rising circle of stands, filled with entertained Asgardians. They whooped and cheered as they watched their two princes circle one another. Odin and Frigga presided._

_"You know you will lose," Thor said with a smile. His mind journeyed to their many play-fights as boys. Thor's might usually handed him victory quite easily but… every once in a while… Loki would weasel or trick his way out of it and stand over Thor with a satisfied smirk._

_"Do I?" Loki called to him, tossing his spear in the air and catching it, over and over, for theatrics. The crowd loved the taunting. "Compare the statistics, Thor. By direct attack or influence, I have eliminated four competitors."_

_"You would take responsibility for Volstagg and Fandral, then?" Thor called, spinning Mjolnir. The crowd was becoming rowdy._

_"Who do you think_sent_them the game over which they fought?" Loki yelled with a wide smile. The crowd buzzed as they realized Loki's trickery._

_"Do not be so presumptuous, brother; they fell to their own stupidity!" Thor called._

_"HEY!" Thor heard offended cries from both Fandral and Volstagg, who sat beside one another in the stands, mead and meat in their hands._

_The crowd positively guffawed, and Thor wished to give them a show they would never forget._

_Loki was ahead of him, however, as he leapt up, a battle cry issuing as he brought his spear down heartily. The crowd bounded to their feet, crying for epic battle as Thor and Loki sparred and parried._

_Thor had might, but Loki had speed. For a long while, they were equally matched, only landing small, hardly wounding blows._

_It was then that Loki began using apparitions, and a slight worry overtook Thor. To win, he would have to figure out which was truly Loki._

_Thor paced, watching each copy closely and studying them. The crowd fell silent, watching with strained interest as they thought Thor would fail. Each apparition spoke at once to obscure and confuse Thor's analysis._

_"How now, brother?" they said with a wicked smile, closing in on him. "Dost thou truly know me?"_

_They each moved differently, and Thor thought on what he knew of his brother. One of the apparitions skulked as it walked, and Thor knew Loki to have too much pride. He would never stoop low. One apparition had green eyes instead of blue. One held the spear in his left hand instead of his right. All these things Thor knew to be false. Others however, seemed identical, though he knew Loki had planted ways for Thor to decipher them—a part of his game._

_Thor knew not how. Until a thought struck him—he didn't need to._

_He began to spin Mjolnir, and the clouds cracked overhead. Many of the apparitions smiled, and Thor was positive he could count the real Loki among them. This playing would positively amuse him._

_Thor threw his arm into the air, calling all the might of the lightning he could muster. He then directed it at a few of the apparitions, crying out with the rage of battle as the lightning struck and disintegrated several._

_One of them leapt at him from behind, spear raised. Thor abandoned the lightning, spinning fast and hitting Loki in the chest with Mjolnir._

_Loki cried out, spinning in the air with the force of the blow and landing hard on his back at Thor's feet. The rest of the apparitions promptly disappeared with the hit. Thor placed the hammer quickly on Loki's chest to keep him from rising. He pulled the spear from Loki's hand and straightened._

_"The real Loki would wait for_me _to attack," Thor said heartily. "Then he would make his move."_

_"Sly mongrel," Loki grinned, but there was sadness in his defeat._

_"I know my own brother like the palm of mine hand," Thor said with a haughty breath._

_In the youth of the games, Thor disregarded his brother's sadness, his envy. There were any number of things he could have done in that moment… should have done. Thinking back, pulling Loki to his feet and telling the crowd that he refused to wound his own brother would have impressed them even more. It would have been a metaphor for alliance and strength within the kingdom of Asgard._

_But alas, a warrior at heart, and a mighty flawed one at that, Thor raised the spear high overhead._

_"Apologies, brother. There can be only one victor," he cried, bringing the spear swiftly down into Loki's chest and turning to meet an adoring crowd._

_**Fin.**_

"_Doomed to an endless, angry search for a vengeance you'll never have;_

_I would call that a curse, wouldn't you?"_

* * *

Final Author's note:

I just want to say a (frost)giant thank you to all my readers for sticking so close! I know a lot of you wanted a redemption story, but I just didn't see it in Loki's near future. He's too angry. (Comic book spoiler ahead: if you're reading the comic books, and have not caught up to the present, don't continue!) Loki does get his redemption, but it happens in Siege. And, considering the Marvel movie-verse started with the plotline from Avengers #1, I don't see it coming any time soon. Avengers #1 was written in 1963, Siege was written in 2007. That's a lot of ground to cover between Avengers and Thor 2, and I don't think they'll do it. But hey, what do I know. Mandarin is the baddy in the current Ultimate Iron Man comic books, and he's the villain in IM3. So anything could happen, I guess. I also wanted my story to be able to stand alone (in between Avengers and Thor 2), no matter the events of Thor 2, and I thought this would be a good way. Relatively nothing will have changed, except he killed the Other, reforged his bond with the villain Enchantress, and had a brief affair with the woman who eventually becomes his wife. He'll still be imprisoned, and the events can pick up in Thor 2. Hopefully.

Anyhoo, thanks again for reading, and hope to see you in another fanfic. ODIN FILLETH THY CUP!

P.S.- If you can tell me (honestly, without using Google) where the quote at the beginning of the story and at the end came from, I will love you forever (sorry, can't think of a better reward right now :-])

P.S.S.- I know the real Loki actually has green eyes, but the majority of the movie shots have him with blue, so I went with blue.

(Last one I swear)- I made a video companion casting my lovely ladies. I'd love it if you would check it out! (Damn FF ghost keeps erasing everything I write. Just put youtubeDOTcomBACKSLASH in front of this): watch?v=ieVRQdv6OAI&feature=


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